


Good for Goodness

by WorkingChemistry



Series: DCU Omega AU [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Gotham by Gaslight (2018), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Alpha Bruce Wayne, Alpha Dick Grayson, Alpha Stephanie Brown, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Focusing on the “bad robins”, Gen, Gotham by Gaslight AU, Graphic Panic Attack, Heads up there’s going to be some heavy misogyny towards omegas, Implied non-graphic cannibalism, Kind of sort of crossdressing, Might be some dark themes, No Sex, Omega Damian Wayne, Omega Jason Todd, Our bad guy is a murderer this time just so you know what to expect, Sort of. I’ll explain in author notes, Time Travel AU, We’re high key ignoring canon, again kind of..., like its one of the themes I wanted to explore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2019-09-14 12:23:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16912824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WorkingChemistry/pseuds/WorkingChemistry
Summary: Jason is back in the manor and things are starting to settle down... sort of. He’s still got to deal with his family’s triggers while trying to navigate his own. Bruce asks him to keep Robin and Spoiler away from a mission involving Black Mask. Unfortunately Damian is on the verge of his first heat and Stephanie still hates his guts.He’s doing his best, okay. It’s definitely not his fault that they get hit by a flashy medallion and sent back in time. Now he has to find his younger siblings and somehow keep them safe in a world that won’t acknowledge him as a fully functioning adult. Now everyone thinks he had Damian out of wedlock and Stephanie is his alpha. While he’s trying to sort that mess out they learn someone is stalking the streets of Gotham at night and tearing the hearts out out of the corpses.Honestly, he’s missed being a Wayne.





	1. Maybe it’s the Days

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are! Hope you’re all having a lovely time! I’m so excited to finally get this going. Not sure on the posting schedule just yet. I’m back home and not working nearly as many hours as I was over the summer so the tentative plan right now is once a week on Saturdays until I head back to school and then we’ll switch back over to Thursdays. I’ve got a bit of a buffer so hopefully we won’t skip weeks, but if we have to I’ll try to have something up. 
> 
> So! On the whole time travel/Gotham by Gaslight AU deal. There is time traveling, but it’s not like a *time travel* fic. I’m going to be honest and admit up front the time travel is just a plot device to get them back in time and figuring out how to get back is something they’re going to do, but it’s not the focus. And as for the Gotham by Gaslight part, it’s that world with some changes because I don’t want there to have been a Batman before Bruce. However, there is still a Bruce Wayne in the past because I think it’d be hilarious for Bruce to be named after him. We do have the cock robins, but their names have been changed. Dickie is John because I couldn’t find a good similar name. Tim is now Anthony. Jason is Mason. 
> 
> As the tags suggest we’re going to focus on the “bad robins”. This was half an accident. I just thought their relationships would be the most interesting to look at in this setting and then after I got started I realized that all three of them are the outcasts of the fam. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy.

“So do you wear those to make Bruce mad?” Stephanie asks.

For a minute Jason doesn’t respond, book in one hand and chopsticks loaded with noodles in the other. Then he realizes she’s talking to him and he looks up. He looks between her and the others at the table before examining his clothes. They’re maybe not the most omegan clothing out there, but they’re not as alpha as what he used to wear when he was a child. Not that his sorta dad ever actually cared what he wore so long as they weren’t his street walker clothes. “Maybe? Probably. What am I wearing?”

“The, y’know,” she gestures to her ears and then to him. “They’re pretty strong identifiers. That why you wear them?”

Jason sets his novel down, realizing a hair too late that he didn’t mark his place. He clears his throat and glances over at Dick, who looks like he just swallowed a bowl of stinging nettles. The alpha always looks like that anytime someone hits something that could remind Jason of his death.

Like he ever really forgets it.

He purses his lips, reaching up to rub a finger over the gold feather in his right forward helix. The studs in his lobes feel heavier than normal as he clears his throat again. “Bruce took me to get them pierced, after I presented.”

“He... he what?” She snaps and Jason’s startled enough by the venom that he can’t quite suppress his flinch. Stephanie might be half his size and no real threat, but she’s still a mostly unknown alpha and his instincts scream danger. “Do you know how many piercings I would have if he hadn’t vetoed them?”

“I’m guessing at least one?” Jason shoots a puzzled look at Dick again. He happens to know the oldest Robin has at least one piercing, though he hasn’t seen him wear anything in it since coming back. They’d gotten their helixes done together. In fact, the feather is the one of a set that Dick bought for them to share. Robin feathers is what the alpha had called them. At the time Jason had been so overjoyed at the gift—at having such a physical reminder that Dick claimed him as pack— that he never took it out. He’d literally been buried with it.

Stephanie hisses at him, jolting him back to the present. “Yes, at least one.”

“What Bruce says isn’t Jason’s fault.” Dick insists firmly, angling his body between them. “And Bruce had good reasons to say yes to Jason, just like he has good reasons to say no to you.”

“Enlighten us then.”  Stephanie spreads her arms dramatically wide. “Curious minds would like to know.”

Dick flounders for a minute, no doubt searching for the most diplomatic way to explain it so Jason puts him out of his misery.

Leaning back in his chair , Jason rubs the back of his neck. “When I was younger, everyone... eh... I didn’t really look like an omega even back then. Kids are cruel, ‘specially to the poor white trash who don’t belong. Thought maybe if my ears were pierced they’d be able to tell my gender. Didn’t help,’cause clearly that wasn’t the problem, but they were cute so I kept them.”

“Oh.” Stephanie’s face is somewhere between blank and uncomfortable.

Jason shrugs and picks up his chopsticks again. “Yeah, so I dunno why he said no to you but I can guess it’s because I died. Usually is.”

“You’re just trying to make me look like the worst now.“ She huffs, pointing her fork at him as she sits back down. “Tell you what. You ain’t cornering the market on rough childhoods, buddy.”

Jason takes a long, satisfying slurp of his noodles before he replies. “Yeah, but did you die?”

“I’m gonna choke you.” She snarls, her scent only half playful.

That gets her another light growl from Dick, but Jason stands before she can get her just reward. He stacks his noodles on top of his novel and grabs his drink. “I’m going to head to the library. If you need me, get someone else.”

“Will do, little wing.” Dick forces Jason to pause long enough for the alpha to properly scent him. Jason thinks he might kill whoever told Dick that Jason felt like he wasn’t being pack scented enough.

Jason purrs a few low notes in response, mostly to reassure Dick there aren’t hard feelings, and then heads off to his corner of the manor. Unsurprisingly, he finds Damian. Ever since the boy’s scent has started to turn omega sweet, he’s been avoiding everyone but Jason. There’s not really an obvious reason as to why.

The Arab boy flicks his gaze up from his sketch pad when Jason enters the library, and then ducks his head again.

Jason sets his things down on a coffee table and then crouches next to Damian’s haphazard nest. He’s been gently coaching his younger brother on nest building techniques, a skill mostly banned within the league. Worthy assassins are alphas and have no need for nests, and omegas are trained in combat only enough to prove they’re worthy for breeding. Damian was not meant to be an omega and so the kid knows five hundred ways to gut a man, but has no idea what to do with all the soft bedding the rest of the family keeps buying him.  

“Do you mind if I share?“

“If it would ease your instincts, I suppose I will not complain too loudly.” Damian sniffs like he’s being put out, but shifts eagerly.

Jason brings his things over and leans against Damian, settling the bowl of noodles between their knees to share in case the pup is hungry. He’s able to sink back into his story quickly. Damian doesn’t enjoy chatter any more than he does. It’s actually really nice to be able to just relax without fussy alphas hovering, or lecturing, or trying to pick a fight. With Damian he can just sit there and be.

Absently, Damian manages a few bites of noodles. He’s not been eating nearly enough, and Jason’s pretty sure that Damian is going through a practice heat. Not that he would tell anyone. It’s Damian’s business what he does and does not want shared. The last thing Jason wants is to embarrass him.

Plus, he’s been on the receiving end of Bruce and Dick during a first heat and he’s going to try to spare Damian that humiliation for as long as he can.  Once the bowl is cold and almost empty, Jason sets it aside and tugs Dami down for a nap. The pup settles snugly against his chest and stomach while Jason rumbles content purrs.

He’d deny it to the ends of the earth, but it’s nice; settles something that aches deep in his chest.

 

————

“Time to get up, kiddos.” Dick’s voice and scent twist through Jason’s dream, gently rousing him.

He blinks open one eye to find their secondary alpha crouched in front of the nest. The dopey grin looks right at home on his face. With a quiet groan Jason shuts his eye again and nuzzles against a still sleeping Damian’s head. He doesn’t want to deal with his big brother’s forceful welcoming into the pack. It’s like the idiot thinks that if he’s enthusiastic enough everyone else will trip over themselves to welcome Jason back. “Go ‘way, Dick. ‘Mega naptime, no alphas.”

“Just wondering when I get my mandatory naptime.” Dick teases. “Timmy’s had two, Dami’s had three at least, and I heard Bruce got one a couple days ago.”

“Live in Gotham and it’d be easier to give them to you.” He huffs as Damian starts to wiggle around, slowly waking up in a way that the pup rarely gets to experience. Usually Damian startles awake instantly.

Dick makes a wounded noise, but waits for Jason’s quiet hum of permission to reach into the nest and stroke through his curls. It feels nice, even if he knows that Dick is just making a mess of his hair. Eventually, Dick moves from Jason’s hair to stroking his cheek. “I still can’t believe you’re here sometimes. I keep thinking... there were so many times you’d be here and then I woke up.”

“It’s alright, I’m here.” Jason grunts quietly, still not really sure how to comfort his family. Contrary to popular belief, Jason being alive doesn’t negate the fact that he died. It definitely doesn’t mean they aren’t still grieving his death. The only thing it’s really done is make them all feel guilty when they do mourn his fifteen year old self. With a sigh, he pulls Dick into the nest and settles Damian between them before cuddling up to the alpha’s warmth himself. “Mandatory nap time Dickie. Get comfy.”

Dick’s laugh is more like a quiet sob as he begins to scent Damian, which means he’s going to go after Jason in a minute. Thankfully the omega pup doesn’t seem to stir, despite being one of the lightest sleepers in the manor. Sure enough, the alpha soon settles Damian down by his stomach so he can groom Jason. “I still have it.”

“Have what? Jason mumbles doing his best to ignore the fingers in his hair and the nose rubbing against his. He’s still really tired, and now his patrol is going to be a nightmare.

“My earring.” Dick’s fingers detour to brush across the feather in Jason’s ear just as he begins to move towards Jason’s neck. “I still have it. I... I keep trying to wear it but I... I can’t, Jay.”

“You don’t gotta wear it, Dick.” He sighs, arching his neck in a minor show of submission. Hopefully it will help settle the alpha’s instincts because Jason’s starting to feel somewhat smothered. Instead it gets him gentle nips to the delicate skin there, reassuring him that he’s a valued member of the pack. It’s irritably endearing. “Honest, I don’t care that you took it out.”

“I care. I want to wear it, it was our thing. I kept it in after you... after you were gone.” Dick finally stills with his nose buried against Jason’s cheek. Jason stiffens uncomfortably, his death is always talked about with euphemisms but it does nothing to soften the memory of each blow.

Dick’s fingers press against his side, in tandem with the ghost of a crowbar. Jason barely stifles his flinch, but Dick soothes away the pain with gentle rumbles before continuing. “It was ours. I wanted to keep you with me, but I...”

The alpha’s arms spasm, pulling Jason closer. “I’m so sorry, little wing.”

Somehow he gets the feeling Dick isn’t apologizing about the earring anymore. He nuzzles his nose against Dick’s, before wiggling down to a position where he can nip the underside of his brother’s jaw. Then he settles in with his nose pressed against Dick’s bergamot scent. “Just sleep a while, N. I’m right here.”

Dick twists his fingers into Jason’s loose t shirt. It’s not a hold that Jason is going to break easily. The alpha rests his chin on Jason’s head. “Yeah... okay. Can’t mess with mandatory naps.”

“Nope. So listen to your pack omega and go the frick to sleep so I can get back to my own nap.” Jason grunts, nuzzling against Dick’s neck while he rubs Damian’s back gently.

“Yes, ma’am.”

That gets the alpha a warning nip. “I’ll shoot you.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Dick chuckles and settles in. Gradually, as he falls asleep, his purring gets louder. Loud enough that Jason doesn’t notice Bruce approaching until the alpha’s crouched down next to them.  

Jason lifts his head and scents the air. Bruce smells pretty neutral, maybe a little amused, so he huffs. “Can I help you?”

“Far be it from me to put a stop to pack bonding, but I think I’d appreciate it if you’d occasionally refrain from using your brothers to line your nest.” Bruce chuckles and pushes back Dick and Damian’s hair out of their faces before resting his hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Alfred sent me to see what was taking so long.”

“They need to sleep.” Jason scowls defensively, hunching up slightly.

Bruce just laughs and rubs Jason’s shoulder slightly. Despite himself, he leans into the Alpha’s gentle touch. It’s nice, almost like before he died. He’s not stupid enough to let his guard down completely though, he and Bruce are always one breath away from a bad argument.

Bruce on the other hand hums lightly and turns the gentle rubs into a light back massage. “So Stephanie started dinner off by screaming what a hypocrite I am. I have no idea what she was talking about, but you kept being brought up. Any ideas?”

“My ears are pierced.” Jason mumbles, shifting to let Bruce at more of his back. Screw it, if this is how he goes then at least time he’ll die happy.  “She’s highly offended. I dunno what she said to big bird after I left, but he got all worked up over it too.”

Bruce’s hands leave his back. “Dick and Stephanie are fighting over your ears, and it’s my fault?”

“Keep up, B.” Jason huffs, shifting pointedly to get his alpha’s attention. Bruce’s hands resume their gentle massage and Jason lets himself give a solitary happy hum at the attention, grooming, and scenting rolled into one. “Steph is mad you took me to get mine done but told her no. Dick was trying to convince me that the reason he doesn’t wear his isn’t because he doesn’t love me or something. I’m not really sure. He was kind of worked up.“

“Ah.” Bruce pauses for a minute to process and then asks, wryly, “And I was supposed to just know this of course.”

“World’s greatest detective, B. That sets some high standards.”  Jason tilts his head to look up at Bruce with a smirk. Then, hesitantly, he offers, “I can go though. Not like, for good, but me living here isn’t working out. Steph and Cass don’t want me here, Dami is torn between defending and fighting me on a good day, and me being here is turning Dick and Tim into absolute wrecks.” A breath and then he corrects himself. “Worse than they usually are.”

“And you?” Bruce asks. “Do you find living here unpleasant?”

“I don’t—“ he whines quietly, causing the others to stir. Once he and Bruce get them settled back down, Jason sits up and hunches forward.

The truth is, he’s never felt safer than when he’s at the manor. Catherine did her best, but... anyway the streets were a nightmare, then he died, then he was in the League of Assassins where everyone was either trying to kill him or claim him as their breeder, then he was a murderous drug lord. Even when he and Bruce were at their worst he’d always known with complete confidence that he was never in danger of death or rape, sad as it is that’s his standard for safe.

He blows out a quiet breath. “I like it here. I just... I died, B, and then I was the literal worst. We’re not going to be able to smooth that over. Your kids don’t like me, and they have every right not to. I can stay at an apartment somewhere, I’ve lived by myself just fine.”

“You’re my son too, Jason. Always.” Bruce strokes over his hair, the way he used to when he was younger. It’s always reminded him of the way Catherine used to groom him, but she was almost always distracted by drugs. Bruce has always given him his full attention. “I lied to you.”

Jason stiffens, not sure what wound is about to get ripped open but honestly he should have expected it. Everytime he starts to think everything is okay—

“I told you once,” Bruce begins, cutting through Jason’s panicked thoughts, “I told you that if you ever leave it would be your choice and not mine. Do you remember?”

The words cut through him like a knife. Bruce is finally going to admit he’s not worth it. “Yeah, I... I remember.”

“I lied to you.”  Bruce slides his hand down to cup the back of his neck. He bends down over Jason protectively; the alpha’s words hot on his skin. “I lied, because you don’t get to leave. There’s nowhere I won’t go to bring you back. You can move to the penthouse if you need space, but you can’t leave the pack. I can’t... I can’t lose you again.”

“I’m not leaving, Bruce.” He reassures, soaking in Bruce’s attention while it lasts. There’s a tight ache in his throat.

He has to swallow down a whine when Bruce uncurls and stands awkwardly. “Enjoy your stolen brothers. I’ve got to go bribe Stephanie with a tattoo parlor. Are you going to be on patrol tonight? I need you to partner with Robin and Spoiler, keep them on the north side of Gotham tonight. Black Mask escaped this morning and given Spoiler’s history and Robins... circumstances it would be best to keep them on the sidelines.”

“You sure you want me with those two tonight?” Jason chokes out, blinking away the emotional whiplash. He’s grown enough to realize Bruce’s mood swings mean that Bruce cares and not that he’s running a con. He feels almost touched that Bruce would entrust the younger pack members to him, but he knows it has to be at least partially to keep him away from Roman as well. “Steph and I don’t exactly get along, and the demon is... touchy right now.”

“I’m sure.” Bruce glances down at Damian curled up between him and Dick. He doesn’t smile but it seems to be a near thing. “You’re good with Damian and I have full confidence that with time you’ll win Stephanie over.”

Jason just shrugs and burrows down into his nest of brothers. He’s not about to argue with Bruce. Tim bet him a twenty they couldn’t go without fighting for a week and this will make almost three days. “If you see Timtac you can tell him I’m this close to hunting him down.“

“Give me ten minutes and you’ll have another captive.” Bruce reassures before heading back out into the hallway.

Sure enough, ten minutes later and Tim’s crawling into the nest spitting some particularly creative curses at him. Jason rather likes ‘may you always have a blister on your left big toe’. He’s gonna use that next time he sees Harley. He doesn’t respond to it though, just tucks Tim in and starts up a soft purr.

It’s not the whole pack, but the rest are either busy or they’d rather see him gone so it will have to do.


	2. The Year that Passed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we’re back! We get a look at one of the villains and Jason gets to kick butt. So, the cross dressing tag is because omegas are considered feminine regardless of primary gender so they wear women’s clothing. For them it’s definitely not cross dressing. Omega fashion is roughly based off of 60-80 years of female fashion during the industrial revolution (picking mostly from the middle) and then adding extreme modesty standards. Beta fashion is based off the respective male or female fashion without modesty standards. Alpha fashion is male fashion regardless of primary gender. The modesty standards are both based in personal experience and experiences of friends and then (again) taken to the extreme. I grew up with fairly lax standards (no shorts above the knee. If you went swimming you had to wear a one piece with swim shorts or a skirt coverup, but the entire back could be cut out as long as it didn’t show cleavage. Everything else was fine. The boys couldn’t wear speedos and most wore a swim shirt. Shirts were to be kept on if someone outside the family was over. They couldn’t wear shorts above the knee either, but that wasn’t ever really an issue.) but I had female friends who were full Pentecostal: only dresses, no swimsuits, and no cutting your hair. So yes I’m writing about modesty culture, but as someone from the inside so I know what I’m talking about. I also have Muslim friends, but I’m not writing about that aspect of modesty because I don’t know as much about it. 
> 
> Also, y’all need to let me know if I start talking about clothes too much because I have had an intense personal interest in historical fashion for a long time now and I forget what does and doesn’t interest normal people. Lol.
> 
> My birthday is coming up this week and we’re celebrating Christmas with one set of grandparents and I might be really slow at replying so I apologize in advance. December is always a crazy month for me.

The others take to his lead about as well as he thought they would.

Which is to say that they both ignore his orders and get dumped into the river by Penguin’s goons. Goons who then escape while he’s hauling them out of the water. He growls quietly, giving Stephanie the stink eye as he’s forced to contemplate life without his favorite jacket or guns. She stares back unrepentant.

“I’m contacting Alfred and then we’re headed back to the cave.” He snaps, tapping his com back on. They’re in Amusement Mile and he freaking hates it. Even if Joker is locked up in Arkham for a while, his cult followers still swarm the place. The graffiti is full of heavy handed religious symbols proclaiming the clown a savior come to free from the constraints of order.

”Hey, civilians shouldn’t be out here.” Stephanie warns, subtly moving in front of Damian.

He turns to catch a glimpse of what looks like a cosplayer wrapped in frayed strips of fabric, but before he can move he’s hit in the chest by what feels like ice. There’s a flash of light and then nothing.

Jason wakes on cobblestone, shaking with frostbitten extremities. It draws a whine out of his throat before he can stop it. There’s no pain though, he’s careful to check as he rubs at his crusted eyes.

The first thing he notices is that neither Robin or Spoiler are anywhere to be found. The second is that his scent blockers have failed, either washed off by the river or neutralized by the teleportation.

Third is the alpha creeping towards him. He swallows hard and stumbles to his feet, hand tightening on his knife. Growling deep in his chest, he coaxes his almost forgotten street accent back to the surface. “You get, ‘fore I gut you.”

“Pretty thing.” The alpha laughs, and he’s larger than Jason. He scents the air and then smacks his lips. “What’re you doing so far from your alpha’s den?”

“I’m gonna give you another chance to beat it outta here an’ then I’m gonna slit your throat.” Jason swallows hard, shifts his grip on the knife, he hasn’t killed in a long time. That doesn’t mean he won’t though. The world doesn’t need rapists, and Jason’s not going to get hurt to let this man go free.

Predictably, the alpha just laughs and lunges forward. The idiot grips Jason’s hair and tugs hard, guiding Jason’s head to expose his neck. Instincts to run and submit fight with each other, taking up too much of Jason’s attention.

So Jason goes pliant and submissive, quelling his instincts to give himself a chance to get the knife in position.

Teeth brush his neck and he strikes. It’s honestly child’s play to slide the knife up into the hollow between the alpha’s collarbones and slice upward. The man stumbles back, helped along by Jason’s shove backwards, gurgling pitifully.

“I did warn ya.” Jason shrugs and smashes his foot down on the alpha’s temple, the man goes limp.

Jason wants to crumple back on the ground alongside him, still dizzy from the teleportation, but he grew up on these streets and he knows the disgusting things that occupy them both human and otherwise. He shudders against the chill of the air, his jacket gone, and bends to steal the alpha’s outer layers.

That’s when he realizes what the alpha is wearing.

He bites down hard on his lip and and tries desperately to reach someone, anyone, with his com as he creeps towards the alley opening. He can’t reach anyone. When he peeks around the corner, his heart jumps to his throat.

There are no cars. Instead horse drawn carriages pull people along, while others walk down the street. Alphas are dressed in suits or trousers and vests, most of them also wearing a baggy coat and hat of some kind. The omegas... they’re all wearing dresses or wide legged pants that look near identical to a skirt.  Every single one has a high collar reaching up to their jaw, long sleeves that reach the wrist, gloves, and a bonnet, hat, or shawl to wrap around their heads. Male betas seem to be indistinguishable from the alphas, but he can tell the females from the omegas by the flashes of skin they bare.

Jason’s hand creeps up to his  shirt collar. Back home his somewhat high collar and three quarter length sleeves kept him hilariously covered up, especially for the alpha he was pretending to be. Here, wherever here is, it looks like it’s not nearly enough.

He stumbles back into the alley to find a young man, omega by the looks of his clothing, crouched over the alpha. He looks up at Jason after he finishes binding the alpha’s neck wound with his shawl and grins. “Either this bloke’s real lucky, or you’re an expert with that blade.”

“Sure looks Irish don’t he?” Jason twitches a grin that’s maybe a touch hysterical, already searching the alley walls for handholds to the roof.

That seems to startle a laugh out of the omega, who stands and approaches cautiously.  His scent reads as comforting and his voice is the quiet purr of an omega to a frightened child. “Hey. It’s alright, you’re safe now. If you come with me, we can get you out of... whatever it is he’s put you in and into some real clothes. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Jason clutches instinctively at the bat, it still smells faintly of pack and he doesn’t want to be rid of it. Still... he can’t wear it here. He doesn’t really know where here even is. It still looks like Gotham, enough that he suspects time travel over multiverse traveling. “Where would you take me?”

“To Sister Leslie. She helps shelter orphans and omegas. She helped me and my brothers before we were adopted.” The omega touches Jason’s arm before he can escape. “She’ll help you too.”

Jason bites his lip, but he doesn’t have many options. Slowly, he nods. “I’m Jason.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m John.” The omega slips under the hand Jason has held out and presses close against Jason’s side. He stays uncomfortably close the entirety of the short walk.

The church is slightly run down, but well maintained. Jason recognizes it as the one his mother used to take him to before she got too sick, or it’s a slightly younger identical version of it. They cause something of a stir as they make their way, or rather Jason’s clothes do. There are quite a few omegas who cover their children’s eyes, several rich visitors on their way out who look at him with either disdain or lust.

Jason hunches in on himself, like that can actually make him smaller. He just needs to play along, convince them that he’s a helpless omega, until he knows what’s going on.

An elderly nun approaches them with a cloak in hand, her beta scent calm and soothing. “Dear me. What have we here?”

She wraps the cloak around Jason, effectively shielding most of his body from view. John accepts a shawl that another nun offers him and wraps it around his head loosely. “I found him in an alley. An alpha had him and I think he was trying to escape.”

“Curse these streets. It’s getting worse everywhere you turn. Don’t worry, dear one. You’re safe here. I’m Sister Leslie.” The elderly nun shoos away the others as she beckons Jason and John forward. “Come along, we’ll get a room ready for you and see if we can find some clothes. You’ll have no need to worry about alphas in the omega wing.”

“Good luck finding something that fits.” Jason mutters, ignoring the latter half. He couldn't care less about alphas but finding omega clothing back home is a nightmare, he can’t imagine there’s are too many omegas his size here either. He pulls the cloak tighter.

Sister Leslie eyes him sadly. “You’d be surprised, I think. Most omegas your size pass as alphas... until they don’t and we take them in. There should be something to fit you, though I cannot guarantee the fashion.”

“I’m not sure fashion matters.” He shrugs.

The room they take him to is small, but it has a large wooden bed built into a cave like structure and stacked with dozens of pillows and blankets. Honestly, it takes every ounce of self control he has not to dive in and curl up in the center of it.

John laughs and nuzzles against Jason’s cheek, standing on tiptoes, like it’s a completely normal thing to do to a stranger. “I knew you’d like it here. Do you want some time alone, or would you feel more comfortable if I stayed? I know sometimes omega cuddles can really help when you’re stressed out.”

Thankfully before he has to respond by beating the omega’s head in, Sister Leslie returns with a pile of clothes. She shoos John lightly. “Go play with the pups. They just found a few new ones.”

“I’ll.... pups?”

Sister Leslie smiles. “I think that would be best. Run along now, you can return when he’s decent.”

“You’re safe here.” John insists again, like that’s all Jason needs to believe it, and then dashed off.

A frail hand tugs at his shirt and he jumps. The sister gives him a soft smile like he’s a skittish animal. John’s told her about the alpha, so she must think he’s on the verge of a breakdown. “It’s alright. Can you take this off for me?”

Hesitantly, he pulls the shirt off over his head and then strips off his body armor. He doesn’t give it to her though. It still smells faintly like his family, and it’s hisin a world that most definitely is not. He just stands there bare chested in front of a stranger, displaying all his scars. The worst is from the autopsy, stretched across his torso in a stark reminder of his death.

The beta hums thoughtfully, but doesn’t react to either the armor or his scars. “Is it your alpha’s shirt?”

“From my pack.” Is all he manages to grit out. She nods in acceptance and helps him into a chemise before she picks up the corset that she’s managed to dig up from somewhere. Her hands are gentle as they help him into the undergarment and tug at the laces. She doesn’t pull them tight, but its not quite made to his shape and so it fits a little uncomfortably.

She eyes the fit and tugs at gaps, before saying, “I will try to get you the materials to make yourself a new one. But for now, I think this what we have.”

Jason just nods, because is that a skill he’s supposed to know? He can do basic sewing, but he has no clue how to construct a corset.  Dick and Tim are the only ones to wear them, and only to give them the curves they need to go undercover as omegas.

He cautiously trades her his shirt and armor, which she sets on the bed, for the new garments that he struggles into. Thankfully she brought him wide legged trousers instead of a skirt. He doesn’t think he could wear a skirt.  She has to help him with the buttons of his high necked collar, but after wrapping a shawl over his head to cover his hair and tugging on gloves, he’s declared respectable.

He’s so incredibly glad there aren’t mirrors, because he doesn’t want to know what he looks like.

A scuffle draws both their attention, but it’s the high pitched growl that has Jason shoving past the Sister out into the hall blindly. Two nuns and John struggle to pin down a flailing pup. All he can really see are layers of fabric, so for a moment Jason thinks it’s just his mind playing tricks on him. Then he gets a whiff of the scent: milky sweet vanilla chai.

Before he’s really registered what he’s doing, he’s thrown the nuns and John aside and curled up around Damian protectively. The boy is red faced and his clothing, miniatures of what Jason’s wearing, is ripped. The death glare he shoots the nuns before schooling his expression into something properly frightened makes Jason chuckle.

“Do you know where we are?” He disguises his use of Damian’s native language with heavy purring as he scents the boy.

The nuns are, thankfully, standing back to allow his claim. They’ll probably think Damian is his, regardless of the fact that he’s clearly too young to have carried the pup. Most people do.

“Gotham, time travel I think.” Damian replies in kind, playing to the role of a frightened pup and nuzzling against his face in return. “A newspaper said something about the 1800s before I was brought here.”

Jason hums quietly, glad as he is that Damian is here and safe, now he has to find a way to get them both home. “Are you hurt?”

“I’ve been forced into a skirt. They tried to make me wear a bonnet.” Damian scowls.

Jason snorts. “I’m wearing a corset. Count your blessings kiddo.”

A hand on his shoulder has him snarling, but it’s only John so he bites it off. The omega crouches down in front of him with a slight frown, his long brown hair falling into his blue eyes. “You didn’t tell me that you had a pup.”

“Jason is not my mother.” Damian informs John crisply, switching back to English seamlessly. “He is my pack omega. I told you as much when you entered the room covered in his scent.”

“I suppose you did.” John gives Jason a sympathetic look that means he thinks Jason’s been raising Damian as a brother because the pup was born out of wedlock. That means everyone in the parish is going to think that he’s had a pup out of wedlock.

Desperately hoping he’s not about to be slapped with a scarlet letter, Jason groans into the top of Damian’s head. “Qué lío.”

————

As it turns out, the nun who’d intended to settle Damian had not been nearly as understanding as Sister Leslie. She’d taken his Robin suit and most of his gear to trash, leaving Damian in the heavy blouse and floral skirt.

Now they’re in white nightgowns with just a little lace at the yoke. They’ve laid out their clothes from earlier, needing to wear them again the next day until more clothing can be found for them. They don’t hold out much hope that when second outfits scrounged up that their choices will be anything better.

“Father and the others must have been hit by the blast as well. They will be certain to be searching for us.” Damian mutters, sitting in the center of the bed it now appears they’ll share.

They’d been rushed back to the room after supper and warned of the citywide nightly curfew. John had left a few hours earlier, so as to make it home before dark. Damian wants to go out to see if they can find the others anyway, but  Jason’s worried about mobility.  All they have are nightgowns or a skirt for Damian and a bodice he can’t fit into without the slight help of a corset.

“We don’t know for certain they were sent back in time to this city. We weren’t anywhere near them when we were blasted.” Jason fusses with the pillows as they talk, every so often pausing their conversation to get an opinion on the positioning. The stress of time travel could be enough to trigger a sudden heat so it’s imperative that nesting lessons continue.

Plus if there’s one thing he’s learned in his fractured life, it’s to take comfort from what he can when he can and nesting is incredibly comforting, thank you very much.

He hesitates and then tugs on the skirt of Damian’s nightgown with a wry grin. “I’m not sure this is going to keep you modest while we fly about the rooftops either.”

Damian drops a blanket and turns on him with a snarl. They tussle until Jason decides to go limp on top of Damian, his body weight effectively pinning the younger omega down. He can’t hold in his belly laugh as the boy squirms and struggles. Eventually Damian manages to kick him over the side of the bed.

Jason crawls back up with a grin. “We’re gonna figure it out kid. Worst comes to worst, you and I both know how to use a blade. We can pick me up a couple of whatever firearms they’ve got here, get you a nice sword, and we’ll cause such a ruckus the idiots in the future will know it’s us. Sound good?”

“It would sound better if I did not have to suffocate from all the clothing they make us wear.” Damian sniffs haughtily. “It is no wonder they believe us to be the weaker sex. Anyone would be helpless tangled up in all that fabric.”

Jason laughs and pushes Damian down into corner of the nest. “You make a good point, but sleep. We can do more in the morning.”

“We need to take shifts keeping watch.” The pup reminds him, nestling into Jason’s side. “You will wake me in a few hours, or feel my wrath in the morning.”

“You got it, buddy.” Jason grunts and sets up a purr to lull Damian asleep. Despite himself, a few involuntary coos manage to sneak in. Damian doesn’t seem offended though, just yips quietly in return and tangles his fingers into the fabric of Jason’s night gown.

It’s not until the pup is snoring that he lets himself really consider the fact that he’s responsible for the safety of his brother in a time where legally neither of them is a person. All it would take is a bite on his neck and they’d become the property of whatever alpha got lucky, and sure he could fight the alpha off and escape... probably. But not being people comes with a whole host of side effects.

One of which is the ability to drug an omega against their will if their alpha thinks they’re being too difficult.

Jason’s not real sure on the specifics of this time, whatever the time may be, but he knows that was a legal treatment until the 1970s. He also knows they didn’t start prosecuting it until the late eighties. He knows that on the streets of Gotham, growing up, a good third of the addicts are omegas who weren’t given a choice the first time they shot up.

He does his best to keep his scent under control, so he won’t wake Damian. Burying his nose in the top of the baby omega’s head to breathe in his milky sweet smell helps more than he ever thought it could.  It’s going to be a long night, so he begins to carefully review all the evidence he can remember about the medallion and starts laying the bare bones of a plan. Jason Peter Todd is not a liar. He’s going to get Dami home if it kills him.

 It’s just... for the first time in a long while, he kinda hopes it won’t. 


	3. This All Seems Endless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are guys. Sorry it took so long, this was supposed to go up on the first at the latest. I tried rewriting the chapter two or three times before deciding to scrap it and start over from scratch with the same basic plot points, but from Stephanie’s POV and I think it turned out better than what I had before. 
> 
> Kind of a rough chapter though. I’m still working out Stephanie’s headspace, so forgive me if she’s ooc. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, lovelies. Hopefully we’ll be back to regularly scheduled postings soon.

Stephanie’s fingers and toes are numb with cold when she blinks awake, tucked away into the corner of a stable and burrowed into a pile of hay. At least, she assumes it’s a stable based on the sound of horses. She’s not actually sure because she can’t see anything other than hay.

Swearing under her breath, she stands and starts the arduous task of pulling hay out of her hair. It’s painful and the pieces stuck to fabric parts of her Spoiler uniform itch.

Jason and Damian are nowhere to be seen, but she is in fact in a stable. Trying to contact them over coms gets her only static. She needs to figure out where she is and then head to Wayne Manor. There's no telling where her companions were zapped and Alfred will be able to organize search and rescue teams if needed.

She turns to see a pudgy man dressed like someone from one of Jason’s historical dramas enter the building. There’s no time to identify what he’s holding because it’s immediately dropped and the man, a beta, snatches up a pitchfork and levels it at her. “State your business.”

“I’m Stephanie.” Too late she’s realizing that she lost all of her weaponry in the Gotham River. Suppressing a shudder when the breeze blows in from the open door, she holds her hands out in front of her. “I need to get to Wayne Manor so I can speak with Bruce Wayne.”

The man considers this, but doesn’t lower the pitchfork. “Mister Wayne isn’t in the habit of conversing with the homeless stowing away in his stables.”

“I’m not—“ She searches for an excuse to meet with Bruce, hoping the lineage of the Waynes is the same here as back home. “I’m his cousin. We were attacked on the way here and I was separated from my omega and his pup. I need his help to find them.”

The pitchfork is lowered but the suspicion remains. “State your lineage.”

Taking a rough estimate of the dates based on the man’s clothing, she starts to rattle off names. Never has she been so grateful that Bruce made her memorize the lineage of every Stephanie related to the Waynes. At the time she’d thought it ridiculous, but now as she reaches the end and she realizes that the Stephanie she picked was mated to a Jason... well, perhaps Bruce had a suspicion she would need to know it and wasn’t just being his obnoxiously over-prepared self.

Though, honestly anyone can memorize a lineage. She’s going to need further proof, but she doesn’t...

Like a flash, she remembers the ring she’d stolen from Jason’s dresser drawer. It had been tucked into the back corner and wrapped with white tissue paper yellowed at the edges. She meant to ask him about it, or... well, interrogate if she’s being honest, but hadn’t gotten the chance. Still, it has the Wayne crest, so maybe it will work.

She fishes it out of a secure pocket and holds it up. “This is my omega’s. It has our family crest.”

The man studies it before handing it back and bowing deeply. “Forgive me, sir. You have found the manor, however Mister Wayne no longer resides here I will escort you to townhome he is occupying during the season. I’m sure he will stop at nothing until we find your pack.”

“Thank you...” she trails off, waiting for the name.

“William Pennyworth.” He assures her, bending to pick up the tack he’d dropped earlier. “At your service.”

The ride into town is nerve wracking. When she’s shown to a bathroom to wash up and change into the clothes William brought her, it’s hard to bite back her frustrated growl. William gave her nothing to prove time travel over alternate universe and she’s not sure if the Bruce she’s going to meet will be helpful in finding the others or if this is a waste of time.

She’s not even sure that Jason and Damian will have landed in the same place.

Thankfully the beta seems more than willing to chalk her irritation up to being separated from her mate.

There’s a minuscule chance of it, but she’s almost hoping that the alpha she’s about to meet will be her Bruce, sent to here as well by the same attacker. Getting home is as good as guaranteed if they have Bruce. If they don’t... they can do it, but it might take longer.

She focuses on trying to tie the ascot. William called it a cravat? Whatever’s it is, she’s decided she hates it. Jason could probably make it look nice, frickin’ history nerd, and that thought is enough to draw another growl from her throat.

Hopefully Jason’s not trying to pass as an alpha, or at least he won’t mind being an omega once she finds him. She might not remember much from history classes, but she does remember the punishments that tended to be dealt out to omegas pretending to be a gender they aren’t. They’re cruel and she wouldn’t wish them on even Jason.

William is waiting to lead her to a parlor. It’s lavishly furnished. Several of the pieces she recognizes from her time at the manor, though these look just slightly newer. The alpha standing next to the plush loveseat looks vaguely like Bruce, close enough that they could be related but not enough to even be twins. Her heart sinks. The strange alpha bows slightly and then gestures to the omega woman at his side. “I’m Bruce and this is my wife, Celeste.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry to impose, but—”

Bruce holds his hand up and steps closer. “It’s not an imposition. You are family. We will help you find your mate and pup.”

“Thank you.” She bites her lip and tries to project worried alpha hormones, but she’s not as good at twisting her scent as Dick and Tim are. Her scent is nearly as honest as Jason’s.

One more thing she has in common with him. “I appreciate it.”

They have dinner and make plans to start searching in the morning. Of course there’s a curfew and so of course no omega would dare to break it. Jason and Damian most definitely will, but she refrains from sharing that. She needs these people to think they’re respectable.

Though she chafes at the idea, Stephanie nods and goes along with it. She’s homeless and without money. It’s best not to bite the hand and all that.  

Besides, she’s quickly distracted by the horror of the blatant sexism that apparently dominates wherever she’s found herself.

Omegas can’t serve themselves.

Sure it’s a thing in movies, particularly historical ones, but she never imagined it was reality. But there they are, acting out one of the most tired tropes known to Hollywood. Bruce diligently refills Celeste’s plate every time it comes close to empty until the omega finally taps his arm and shakes her head.

Their three sons, one of each secondary gender conveniently enough, give her some hope that they’re only playing along to the social norm because they don’t know how she feels about it. The omega, John she’s told his name is, tries to serve himself before Celeste coughs pointedly and glances her way.

Immediately John snatches his hand back and pouts over at the red-headed alpha, Mason. With a smirk, the alpha loads up the plate and slides it over to his brother. “Eat up, Johnny boy. Can’t have you losing your stylish figure.”

“My figure is fine.” John whines.

Anthony, the beta, stays focused on her as he begins his own meal. He’s small, cute, and she gets the feeling he’d like nothing better than to find some reason to destroy her. Every question he asks is sharp and pointed, trying to poke holes in her story.

She’s never been so glad that she only has to deal with two overprotective betas in her life and that they both like her.

Anthony takes another dainty bite while Mason continues to tease John. The beta reaches for his glass of water. “I am sure it must be difficult leaving your omega and his pup out on the streets. How long did you say you knew him?”

“I met him three years ago through his brother, but we only became mates recently. The pup with him is his brother.”

Anthony hums quietly, offering her the bread before asking, “Why would an omega be caring for his younger brother? Surely there is another alpha in his family.”

“Jason and Damian have both been recently orphaned, that is why we have come to Gotham. I thought perhaps a change of scenery would help cheer them.” Stephanie hopes the pretense of grief hides her irritation.

So of course it draws the attention of the other members of this Wayne pack. Everyone seems to hum sympathetically, but Mason frowns. “You thought you would bring him to Gotham? Not that we ain’t— er, that the city is not beautiful, but with the murders—”

Her heart skips a solitary beat, because it would be her pack members luck to be attacked by a murderer their first night alone.

The brief moment of fear must show through because John slaps Mason’s arm lightly before resting his head against his brother’s shoulder. He doesn’t look over at her, keeping his gaze down and his voice soft.  “I’m sure you don’t need to worry. Perhaps they have taken shelter there as well.”

“I—“ she searches for the right words. She’s exhausted and pretending to care what happens to Jason is just further draining her. It was the best cover she could think of on the spot, but now she finds herself slightly regretting it. It’s not that she doesn’t care at all, but she still remembers Tim’s shattered bones and the months of recovery afterwards. “If you’ll excuse me. It’s been a trying few days and I would like to retire for the evening.”

“Of course, dear.” Celeste gives her a sympathetic smile before shooting Anthony a unamused frown. “We completely understand.”

“I will be sure to have William direct the coachmen to have the carriage ready at dawn.” Bruce reassures her, and that does manage to draw a weak smile to her lips.

“Thank you.” She dips her head and then follows William back to the room she’s been given. Horribly enough, her last thought before she falls asleep is to wonder if her Bruce still owns the townhome, and if so how attached he is.

Because it really is a nice place.

 

————

The next morning dawns with news of a new murder. No one has the same story, of course, but they all agree that the omegan male’s death has been particularly gruesome.

For the first time she feels the tingle of fear in her fingertips. If Jason truly is dead, her Bruce will kill her... if Tim and Dick don’t manage it first.

They search everywhere Bruce can think of, starting with the church. For a brief, shining moment she thinks they’ve found them when Sister Leslie confirms that an omega and pup matching their description were brought to the church. That hope is shattered moments later, when she informs them that they both disappeared from the parish overnight.

Which is honestly something Jason and Damian  would do.

She thanks the woman and then nods to Bruce when he suggests they head for the police station. If they report Jason and Damian missing, it could possibly help.

It would appear that this Bruce holds as much regard for the police’s competency as Jason does on the best of days. Still, he seems convinced that their status as Wayne omegas will increase their chances of being found.

It’s pure luck that leads her to glance out the window to see a large man being pinned to the ground by a more medium sized woman. Even without being able to see his features, she’s fairly confident it’s Jason. Who else would start picking fights on one of the nicer Gotham streets?

The carriage is stopped and she flies out, immediately recognizing Jason’s honey-vanilla scent, thick with anger. Somewhere in the crowd  she catches the faintest hints of vanilla chai. Intincts tell her go find the pup and be sure he’s okay while an equally strong compulsion tells her to defend her pack mate pinned to the ground.

For a horrid moment she considers pretending she doesn’t recognize Jason to sweep Damian off to safety. She could get the pup to safety and rid the family of a danger that, if they allow to return, will only come back to bite them.

Then she catches the savage fear twisting through Jason’s expression and scent as he struggles against the alpha pinning him. Escaping the hold should be laughably easy for him, but he’s wheezing too much too build up the proper momentum.  When their eyes meet, the omega tips his head towards Damian, clearly wanting her to take the pup and run.

That’s what finally prompts her to action.

“Jason!” She shouts, instilling her rarely used alpha voice with anger and worry.  It draws the attention of everyone near them and she plans to use that attention to clearly stake her claim. She draws on her memories of challenging Bruce to instill her voice with the appropriate cold tone when she addresses the woman on Jason’s back. “Release my omega.”

“His neck is bare.” The woman responds, her tone just as icy, smashing Jason’s face down to pull the collar away from his bare neck. Blood splatters across the cobblestone and she finds herself praying it’s not a broken nose.

There are several scandalized gasps at the exposure. Stephanie herself has to suck in a quiet breath. Not because she’s never seen Jason’s neck, but because she’s never noticed the faint silver pin pricks of bite scars that litter it. There are a lot, even for a kid who grew up in the rougher parts of Gotham.

She can’t quite convince herself that most of them were consensual and invited, but she finds herself hoping.

Ignoring the hard clench of emotion in her gut, Stephanie gestures towards his neck. She’s doing this because it’s what’s right, not because Jason is an innocent. He doesn’t deserve her sympathy. “Look closer. He has my scars. We were separated a few weeks back and that is the reason he doesn’t bear a fresher mark.”

The alpha jerks Jason’s neck into a painful arch, coincidentally giving Stephanie a perfect view of Jason’s now bloodied face, to examine the scars and then the alpha reluctantly releases him. “My apologies. I didn’t realize he was mated. He doesn’t smell of anyone.”

Stephanie is pressed against Jason in seconds, steadying him as he tries to scramble to his feet. He tugs on the gag, fingers fumbling at the knot, wild eyes searching the crowd for the pup that rushes to his side. She takes over untying the cruel fabric cutting into his mouth, one of the corners is also dribbling blood alongside his busted nose, so that he can reassure himself Damian is uninjured. With a quiet coo, Jason runs fingers over Damian’s face and through his hair.

Damian is looking worse for wear himself, even under the acting, as he presses in against Jason’s hip tightly. His fingers fist tightly in the muddied skirts.

Just how bad had things been before she showed up to stop the fight?

The Bruce Wayne she found earlier isn’t far behind her, keeping a respectful distance from them as he disperses the crowd. She thinks she also sees him threatening the alpha that had just tried to claim Jason. Actually, most of the other alphas nearby are quick to express their disapproval. Something angry within her is partially soothed by the realization that, while allowed, this behavior isn’t considered acceptable.

Unsure how to explain what she’s learned to her fellow bats, she pulls the tall omega down into an embrace and tugs off her cravat to wrap it around Jason’s neck and cover him up. She presses her lips to the top of his head, but instead of placing a kiss she hisses, “Play along or you’ll wish I left you with her.”

Jason’s still gasping for breath, so he can’t respond with more than a glare before he burrows obediently into her embrace like a shy omega who’s just been humiliated. It’s... maybe not entirely an act. Jason’s entire body trembles, but she suspects that at least is from the adrenaline. Still, she offers quiet rumbles and heavy huffs to try soothing the nerves of her companions.

Jason’s response is a low pitched, almost inaudible, growl so she tries to pinch his side and ends up bruising her fingers on the boning she didn’t know was there.  She can feel Jason’s lips curl up into a sharp smile against her neck at the strangled yelp she tries to suppress. He immediately switches to a soft stuttering purr. It’s difficult, but she does manage to abort the second attempt at a pinch.

The corset plus the alpha crushing his lungs would explain why Jason couldn’t find his breath to free himself at least.

“Is it alright to approach?” Bruce asks gently, having managed to shoo away their spectators. He’s sending out gentle waves of scent towards her companions, much like one would hold a hand out for a dog to sniff.

Something that Jason and Damian both must take offense to, though neither gives an outward sign of it.

She secured the duo more securely in her embrace, to hold them back in case they decide to attack, and nods. “Yes. Of course. Jason, Damian, this is my cousin I told you of. Bruce Wayne has graciously offered to house us until we find our footing again.”

“Thank you, Alpha Wayne.” Jason gives a demure greeting, breath hitching dramatically. He doesn’t lift his face from Stephanie’s neck, instead pressing painfully closer.

Damian doesn’t respond at all, which is perhaps for the best.

Bruce steps closer and kneels down in front of Damian. She has to give him credit, he doesn’t seem to care that those cream colored pants, breeches? she doesn’t know, are now ruined. Instead he seems to be more worried about the fake traumatized pup. “It’s very nice to meet you, Damian. Your sister said that you like animals. Is this true?”

Damian peeks one eye out from Jason’s skirts, though they actually look like wide legged pants of some kind rather than a true skirt, and slowly nods.

“It just so happens that my wife’s calico birthed kittens a few weeks ago. I wondered if you might like to see them.”

That gets Damian to drop the act a little and slowly separate himself from Jason. Not far enough that he doesn’t still have a firm grip on the omega though. “How many kits?”

“Five. And none of them named yet. My boys are dreadful at naming things.” Bruce holds out a hand for Damian to take. “Do you think you and your... mother would like to come see the kittens?”

“Jason is certainly _not_ my mother.” Damian tells him matter of factly, a little bit of the assassin prince showing through before he curls back in on himself, swiping at his nose and pressing back against Jason’s legs.

That pulls Jason away from her neck to crouch down next to Damian. He gently pets over the younger omega’s hair, seeming to examine him for injuries. The brief conversation that ensues is mostly nonverbal vocalization and a few words in a language she has no hope of understanding. At the end of it, Damian tentatively takes Bruce’s hand while Jason watches with a careful eye.

For the first time in this entire farce, she doesn’t think Jason is acting when he gives just one low warning growl.

It’s reactionary instinct to step half in front of Jason, one hand squeezing his shoulder to quiet him. “He’s still shaken from—“

“It’s quite alright.” Bruce soothes, slowly standing. “His instinct to protect is admirable. I would never hold it against him, even if he had not just been attacked. When we get him back to the manor you can take him back to your rooms and allow him to nest. I’m sure that will go a long way towards recovery.”

“Thank you.” She forces herself to smile. When she glances back at Jason to see his reaction, she finds he’s hidden it by looking down at his feet.

While Bruce coaxes Damian into the carriage, she crouches down next to Jason. She pulls free a spotless handkerchief and begins dabbing at the blood splattered across the omega’s face. “We can’t stay on the street, Jason. We’re drawing too much attention.“

“He’s not Bruce.” Jason insists, letting her pull him to his feet. He takes the handkerchief and holds it to his nose himself while she leads him to the waiting vehicle.

She hums in agreement. “He’s not our Bruce,  but he’s _a_ Bruce, and he’s giving us a place to stay. We’ll take advantage of this while we can and then deal with everything else as it comes up.”

Jason either doesn’t have a comeback for that, or he doesn’t feel like sharing it in this Bruce’s presence. As soon as he takes a seat, he pulls Damian into his lap and seems to do his best pretending nothing else exists.

Stephanie presses close to his side, determined to play her part of the devoted mate at least. As she rests her cheek against Jason’s shoulder, she’s already exhausted and she hasn’t even had the chance to get chewed out by Jason for claiming him yet.

The morning is still only a few hours young and she just knows it’s going to be a long day. 


	4. You’re Among Strangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kind of sucks. I’m really sorry. I just got some massively bad news that’s sapped literally everything out of me and it was a struggle to get this done while it’s still the weekend. It’s really freaking hard to write a good fight when you’re just feeling numb. 
> 
> But I wanted to get this up now and then I’ll try to clean it up over this week. I’ll post an update on tumblr when I get it cleaned up. Thanks for being so understanding.

 It shouldn’t surprise her that the first thing Jason does once they’re finally alone in the room is to start stripping.

“Should I—” her offer to give him privacy was met with him throwing his blouse at her face. She would have caught it, of course, but she chose not to so he could feel the satisfaction of having hit her.

The corners of his lips twitch up before his face goes blank and he starts to struggle with his corset. “You should get over here and get me out of this thing. Damian tied it too tight.”

“To be fair to the kid, I’m not sure that he had any other option.” It’s just a few seconds work for her to pull the laces free of the grommets and release Jason. He sucks in a careful breath that quickly expands into a deep one as she examines the garment. “Sorry to tell you, but it seems your curvy figure has been oversold.”

“I don’t even want to know who you talk to about my figure.” Jason is quick to step out of the muddy pants and then jerks the chemise he had on up over his head. “I’m a man not a woman. I ain’t supposed to look like one.”

“Pretty sure omegas are curvy.” Reflexively she jerks her gaze away.  While she’s no virgin who’s never seen a naked omega, she’s highly, highly uncomfortable with the idea of her ex boyfriend-best friend’s sort of brother undressing in front of her. Thankfully, down to his boxers seems as far as Jason is willing to go.  

When she looks back  omega stands in front of the vanity examining his skin. For bruises she thinks. He looks like he’s half pouting. “I'm the perfect amount of curvy for a male omega.”

Which, yeah, he is. She might not be particularly attracted to omegas, but she’s not blind okay? Still, his muscled thighs and chest with just a light layer of omega padding is not something she wants to discuss at length.

“So she drawls. “Are we going to talk about it?”

“Depends.” Jason pokes at an indentation across his ribs that cuts across a scar. “Do you want to give me a chance to let my anger die down or do you just want to get the mauling over with?”

“What did you expect me to do?” Stephanie drops onto the bed and starts stripping herself of her more uncomfortable layers. “You’re an omega, Jason. No one is going to let you wander around by yourself. Damian could present as an omega any day now. That leaves  me to take charge.”

“I expected you to be sensible, to run  off and take Damian since you seem so concerned about his health.” Jason turns on her with a curled upper lip.

“Sensible? Which one of us has a history of psychicotic breakdowns? A year and a half ago you’d have slit Damian’s throat— let’s be real, you’re one bad day away from slitting his throat now.” She can’t help the derisive laughter that bubbles up. “I was sensible. I found us somewhere to stay. I kept you and Damian safe, you’re welcome. You picked a fight with an alpha in the most public space you could find and then you couldn’t even get out of it on your own.”

“Is that what you think happened?” He looms over her, growl almost alpha low.

“That’s exactly what happened.” Stephanie jabs his chest with her forefinger, just barely missing the thick ropy scars leftover from his autopsy. “You should be grateful I saved you from a bite mark, though heaven knows if you’d notice another.”

“That’s a nice little rewrite.” Jason’s heavy hand covers his neck even as he laughs. It’s bone chillingly similar to the Joker’s in the psycho’s more lucid moments. She thinks that’s on purpose. Most of Jason’s dramatics twist back to reminders of his death. “See, I remember you and Damian nearly drowned yourselves. Remember being too exhausted from fishing you both out of the river to see whoever blasted us here. I remember that when we woke up this morning no one knew what happened except someone died. So yes, we slipped out of the church to make sure youweren’t the sucker who got offed. While wewere looking for you, some knothead decided I’d make her beta wife lots of pretty babies and tried to take me as a brooder. I wanted you to get Damian out of the way so I could tear her throat out, but instead you stepped in and now I’ve had to trade her bitemark for yours.”

He snarls and for a second she thinks he’s going to punch her, but instead he shoves her onto the floor. “Forgive me if I’m not grateful for your help.”

“I’m not going to bite you.” The idea of putting her mouth anywhere on Jason is enough to have her gagging. “Just wear your high collars and no ones going to know.”

“No one’s going to know?” He sneers, somehow managing to be terrifying and aggressive  as he twists himself up into the massive pile of soft blankets on the bed. “What happens if someone else decides they want to fill my belly? If you don’t have a bite to back your claim you’ll have to fight or give me up. You could leave a hickey, but it’s my neck and I don’t want you near it long enough.”

Stephanie can’t help her derisive snort. Well, she can but she doesn’t want to. “You’ve got a high opinion of yourself if you think everyone’s jumping for a chance to mount you.”

“Doesn’t really matter if everyone wants to, if it happened once it can happen again.” Jason hisses, still spitting mad, but he shivers just a little in his newly made nest. “If it does happen again, I won’t be able to do anything to stop it. Quit being such a knothead. I’m the one getting bit.”

She’s about to inform him that she’s not putting her mouth anywhere near him, but Damian comes barreling into the room cradling a kitten in his arms.

“Todd. I was sent to see if you require anything specific for supper.” The baby omega is sweeter than normal with just a hint of the spice that has begun to dominate his burgeoning adult scent.

Stephanie bites her lip as she looks over the fourteen year old’s head to catch Jason’s equally worried look. Immediately things snap into perspective. Regardless of how she feels about Jason, if her claim on Jason is contested and someone else gets the omega she’ll lose Damian with him since no one would dare separate a pup from his ‘mother’.

Though, actually... mothering isn’t a bad term for the way Jason is tucking Damian into the nest rather forcefully.

She steps closer, carefully because only an idiot would blunder straight into a defensive omega’s nest. Or, anyone’s nest really. Dick has definitely come close to taking her head off the few times he’s nested and she got too close.

Never let it be said that she’s not the bigger person. When Jason gives her a cautious nod to let her near, she perches on the edge of the bed and holds out the ring she used to secure their place with the Waynes. “You're... in this instance and this instance only you’re right. I’m going to have to bite you, and I’m very sorry about that.  I’m also,” and here she cringes, “I’m also sorry for not being more sensitive to the fact that you were nearly forcibly claimed.”

”I was not nearly ‘forcibly claimed’.” Jason retorts, indignance flaring in his own too-sweet scent. If he goes into heat while they’re here, they could be in trouble. “I could have taken that alpha and you know it. The only reason I didn’t was so I didn’t blow out cover.”

“Sure. Look, I think this is yours?” Stephanie takes his hand and drops the ring into it. “It’s how I convinced these people we’re Waynes.”

“I am a Wayne.” Damian pipes up from somewhere in the pile of blankets Jason has himburied in.

They both ignore him though as Jason’s half pout disappears, giving way to something more pained. “Where did you get that?”

“In your room.” She shifts her weight uncomfortably. Now she’s maybe glad she didn’t whip this out in front of Bruce and Dick like she’d planned. Maybe the ring really was his and not stolen like she’s thought. “I might have been snooping.”

“Where?” Jason snaps, and it has more anger behind it than when they were fighting earlier. “Where in the room? Was it in a jewlery box, or—“

“You had it shoved up into the corner of a dresser.” And yeah, if you look at it that way then maybe she was being more than just casually nosy.

But instead of turning on her for the massive invasion of privacy, Jason curls up into the nest with raw relief as he turns the ring over in his hands. Gingerly he tries to slip it on and seems relieved when it fits, though she thinks it looks a little snug. “They said I didn’t have a ring when he buried me.”

Even Stephanie can’t hold back her wince at the reminder of his death.

“Who said?” Honestly he can’t believe that, can he? Why would Bruce bury him in the Wayne cemetery, but not bother to claim him? “Because there was an entire article about the ring Bruce had made for you. It cost like twice what most rich people spend on them and everyone in lower Gotham talked about what a waste it was ‘cause you were dead.”

What little color Jason has drains rapidly from his face, leaving even his lips white. He doesn’t respond, just blinks at her with a gaze that’s becoming rapidly unfocused.

It’s only a faked whine from Damian that draws him back to sentience. Immediately the omega focuses on fussing over the pack pup.

Damian rolls his eyes, but nuzzles in against Jason’s side obediently even as he takes charge.  “Perhaps, Brown, you can bite Jason quickly and then inform the family that we will be dining in the bedroom tonight. If they are going to insist upon us resting from the ordeal, we may as well take full advantage of it and compose ourselves before we head out tonight.”

She wants to argue, but Jason’s grasp on things seems to have abruptly shifted to tenuous and she’s not one to kick while someone is down. So with a sigh she crowds up against Jason and carefully arches his neck. “Going on the record one last time to say I still feel like this isn’t necessary.”

“Duly noted.” Jason answers dully, arching his neck further.

She glances up at Damian, surprised to find a slightly worried frown on his face, but he nods decisively so she bites.

The second she breaks skin, Jason goes lax against her. She holds for just a second longer to make sure it will leave a mark and she won’t have to do this for a while, and then releases.

Jason whines when she pulls back, but it seems to have brought him back to himself based on the way he’s glaring sluggishly. She’s not sure why she’d expected anything else from him. “Don’t leave the manor without me. I don’t want either you or Damian to be wandering on your own. We don’t have comms to keep track of each other here.”

Her lips pull back to bare her teeth, but then Damian snags her attention and his expression is... well, it’s blank. But it’s blank in a way that, for Damian, borders on panic. The last thing she needs is two omegas in panicked heats, and she’s rapidly becoming convinced that Jason’s  going to spiral into a sympathy heat the second the younger presents. So she forces her scent to smooth.

She’s an alpha, and good one thank you, she knows how to care for her pack. Maybe she doesn’t want Jason to be pack, but Damian has claimed his older brother quite firmly and she’s inexplicably grown fond of the arrogant pup. And at any rate, she can feel the weird itchy concern towards the omega she’s bitten. She knows it’s chemically based, a mechanism designed to protect omegas from being abandoned while their movements are still impaired, but that doesn’t make it less strong.

“Did you want anything specific for dinner, Jason?”

“Damian is vegetarian.” Is his dismissive reply as he literally turns his back on her. She almost feels bad for poor Damian who’s going to get the brunt of Jason’s altered state of mind, but the mini Bruce seems to relax a little more with every swipe of Jason’s tongue across his face.

She wrinkles her nose at the sight, though she knows that at some point she would have nestled against her mother in a similar manner. Before the drugs at least. “Should I take the kitten with me? We don’t want him getting squished.”

“Her.” Damian huffs, cradling his charge a little closer. “Agatha is perfectly safe within my nest.”

“I seem to recall _Jason_ taking over _my_  bed to make that.” She snorts quietly.

“Todd. Inform her that this is my nest.” Damian  shoulder scooches himself deeper into the nest as though that alone will help him lay claim to it.

Jason nods amiably, albeit with a raised eyebrow. “Damian’s the closest to his heat, so Damian’s nest.”

There’s nothing really that she can say to that, even if she’s positive that’s not how it works, so she just nods and starts redressing to meet the standards of polite society. She still can’t get the cravat tied, but struggles on with it until she finally breaks down and asks Jason for help.

Curse him, he’s just as perfect at it as she thought he’d be. 


	5. Lost the Only Way You Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies. This chapter’s done! Thank you all for your kind comments and well wishes. My grandma is doing okay. She’s been given a couple years to live and she’s started chemo so... we’re gonna see. Still not sure what this means for my writing, but I’m definitely having a harder time finding the energy between all of that and school. 
> 
> Slight blood and gore warning. Nothing too graphic I don’t think, but we’re dealing with a murder victim so... lemme know if you think it needs tagged. Thanks guys! Hope you all have a marvelous day.

It is with a growing certainty that Damian realizes he needs to take charge of this mission. Todd, while the most experienced, is still an omega and easily compromised by his anger. Brown, though an alpha, is equally blinded by her prejudice against his brother.

In a time such as this one they cannot afford infighting.

The first order of business is to help Todd refocus. Team cohesiveness can wait. Damian settles in against Todd’s broad chest and lets the older omega finish tucking them in.

Todd’s purring is pleasant, with Agatha nestled between them purring equally as pleased, and still there are tears stinging his eyes.

He wants to pretend it is out of relief. Todd is safe from the advances of that brute, but... he was never really in true danger of that to begin with. Even if Todd wasn’t capable of freeing himself, Damian was more than able to save him. It was merely convenient that Brown came along.

Todd is only half there, gaze unfocused towards the wall before he finally shuts his eyes and nuzzles Damian’s cheek. His brother’s warm honey and vanilla scent soaks through his pores. If he shuts his eyes, he can believe he is back home in one of the League’s hideouts, curled up in a nest with Rasha and hiding from Mother.

He wants to pretend he doesn’t know why there is a hitch in his breathing.  Wants to blame foolish omega hormones that make it so difficult to regulate his emotions using his training.

“Shhh.” Todd’s thumb, gentle despite how rough it is, swipes away a tear that spills reluctantly down his cheek. “Everything is going to be okay.”

It’s almost too much. Damian wants to ask the questions welling up in his chest. Why did you leave?

Why didn’t you come back?

Why was I left in that nightmare?

He does not dare though, terrified of the answers, so he swallows them down. The words to his response struggle to slip past the lump in his throat. “Perhaps the time jump tired me more than I first believed myself to be.”

“Maybe.” Todd hums. He tucks Damian in a little more firmly, swiping his thumb over Damian’s cheek. “‘s alright to have a cry, Dami. Don’t have to have a reason. Sometimes it’s just stress relief.”

“I do not believe that was ever part of your training.” Damian counters, and if—while shifting to a more comfortable position—his nose ends up tucked against Jason’s scent gland, it is entirely by accident. “Either with father or with the league.”

“Mmm.” Todd strokes his hand through Damian’s hair and it feels too  _nice_. “Definitely not with the league, I think you’d be surprised by your father but you’re right it wasn’t part of training specifically... Mama always told me it was okay to cry. Willis hated ‘whining’... so when he’d go out drinking with his buddies, mama and I’d make ourselves a nice little nest and just have a good cry. It was nice.”

“Pathetic.” Damian huffs, but he is careful to not make the word sting as he wraps his arms just a little tighter around Jason.

Todd laughs and presses a kiss to Damian’s hair that he pretends not to feel. “Just sleep kiddo. I’ll wake you for patrol.”

 

————

Damian wakes up groggy. It is becoming a disturbing habit. He has worked hard to hone his ability to wake up ready to fight, if he cannot shake this lethargy he and his companions could be at grave risk.

It is only Todd, crouched in front him with the half smile that seems to be reserved solely for him. Not that he has noticed, such things being beneath him. “Hey, pup. Up and at ‘em. Don’t like the idea of leaving you here.”

“As if I would allow such a thing.” Damian rolls onto his side and rubs his cheek against a pillow that smells strongly of his brother’s scent before pushing up to his knees. “What shall I wear? My Robin suit is too charred from the imbeciles’ attempts to dispose of it to be of much use.”

“Steph got you some things.” Jason brushes his cheek against Damian’s before pulling back and stretching. Ropey scars curve along taut muscle before they are hidden by Jason’s undershirt.

The ‘things’ turned out to be leggings, a form fitting long sleeved undershirt, a looser short sleeved shirt, and the long shawl Todd was forced to cover his head with. By the time Damian is finished lacing up his boots, thankfully the nuns had not seen fit to take those, Todd is fully dressed—minus his jacket and the overshirt with the bat symbol.

“Why—” Damian starts, stops, and finally just gestures to the cloth that Jason is diligently winding around his head.

”We don’t have scent blockers.” Jason tosses him a pin to secure the head covering with. “People will likely see us and our pants will be easier to explain away than not wearing anything on our heads.”

Damian shrugs and secures his own, scowling when Brown coos at them.

“I really wish my phone was charged because you are both adorable.” Her own hood is pulled up over her head, but she hasn’t yet tugged up the lower mask. “We just need to get you guys in purple and we could be Spoiler and the Spoilerettes.”

Todd tosses something that narrowly misses her head. “Hush please. I am the oldest, and the highest ranking. You’d be my sidekick, thank you.”

Damian snorts, though he feels a pang at Todd’s delusions. Todd might be head of the omegas within Father’s pack, but even the lowest alpha, like Brown, will rank higher. Pack hierarchy had been one of the first lessons he learned at Grandfather’s knee—believing at the time that he would take his place at the top.

When he finds himself missing those days, he forces himself to recall the harassment that Rasha was subjected to as an omega. Being blood of the Demon, the alphas chasing him would not be so blatant. He would be eventually married to one, however, and it is not likely that he would have much of a say.

‘The League’s jewel,’ his mother had called him the last time she saw him. She’d stroked the sensitive skin down the back of his neck. Then she’d left him with Father.

Jewel Damian might be, but if so he decorates a dagger and not a tiara. He’s ill suited for the life of a league omega, and Mother knows it. That is why she abandoned him to Father. After being raised with the expectation that he would one day rule, he could never be content as the brooder for a high ranking assassin. It was to protect him.

It was.

“Hey, Demon.” The nickname is soft and Brown’s mouth creases downward. “You alright?”

The concern makes him bristle. Ever since they realized he was an omega everyone but Todd started walking on eggshells around him. Under normal circumstances it is irritating, but here it is unbearable. He only just manages to keep his rage at a whisper to avoid disturbing their hosts.  “I will be fine. I am hardly about to start a heat simply because of time travel.”

Brown flinches back, hurt flashing across her expression.

Guilt lodges in Damian’s stomach. He knows better than to lash out like a common whelp, and yet he is so _so_ tired of being coddled. Even Drake has started bringing him gifts of bedding. For a second his eyes start to water at the injustice of it all. He, a prince meant to rule empires, is to be reduced to a slobbering consort once a month until someone fills him with their get and he will be forced to push out litter after litter until he grows too old.

“Ignore her.” Todd slaps Damian lightly on the back, distracting him from tears. The omega passes Damian a third of the tech they’d pooled together. His older brother slides an arm around Damian’s shoulders and leans in closer to whisper, loud enough for Brown to hear, “Alphas get freaked out by omegas in heat. If you do go into heat, we’ll just take a day or two off. You an’ I ‘ll build a nice little nest in that closet there and we’ll cuddle ‘til the cramps go ‘way. No big deal.”

“Can we afford to take the time?” Damian focuses intently on attaching his grapple to his belt, grateful that they all carried backups and could replace the ones that he had lost. He is careful to not lift his face, but he suspects that his relief seeps into into his scent anyway.

That gets him a quiet snort from Todd. “Kiddo. We’re in the past; we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Tt.” Damian clicks his tongue against his teeth. “We still age.”

“Yeah, well you and I each lost some time when we died, so I think we can spare a few days.” Todd ruffles Damian’s hair before standing and nudging Brown lightly. “An’ I don’t think it’s gonna hurt miss priss here either.”

Ignoring the dirty look Brown sends him, Todd claps his hands together lightly. “Now. First things first, we need to go back to the places we first appeared to see if we can find any clues there.”

“And what do you think we’re going to find?” Brown rolls her eyes dismissively and unlatches the window to push it open. “Even if we do find something, it’s not like we’ll be able to conduct tests.”

“What would you suggest?” Todd snaps in a tone that is entirely inappropriate to use against an alpha.

Soon, Damian thinks, Brown will be unable to stop herself from putting Todd in his proper place. He finds that is not something he wants to see. So he tucks himself against Todd’s side, positioning so he’s between Brown and the omega, and peers out the window. “I say it is as good a place as any to start. If we think of something else on the way, we can abandon the idea.”

That gets him a quiet grunt from Jason and Brown gives a shrug. “Fair enough. I appeared in the Wayne stables, near the manor, so we won’t be able to get there tonight. Jason, Dami?”

“I appeared in an alley in old Gotham I think. Somewhere near where Wayne Tower is going to be built, closer maybe to where the Clock Tower is?” Todd chews on his bottom lip before shrugging one shoulder. “Damian?”

”Park Row.” He hesitates. “It was nicer than it is in our time.”

“It would be.” If Todd’s laughter is a touch bitter as he slips one leg out the window, well... no one can truly blame him.

They scrabble up the side of the building and run across the rooftops that are simultaneously familiar and strange. The townhome appears to be in the Diamond District, so they search out Todd’s alley first. It is empty and nondescript. Wet newspapers cling to the slate gray cobblestone. A few are tinged red, but otherwise there is no evidence of Jason’s appearance or the violence that followed.

Jason scans the brick walls of the buildings around him, thick eyebrows drawn low over his teal eyes. He licks his lips and glances up at the roof of one building. “Any ideas why the son of a wealthy Bruce Wayne might be crawling around the rooftops at dusk?”

A sharp pang of fear cuts through Damian’s ribs. Time travel, though it carries risk of paradox, is comparatively simple to undo. Multiverse travel is much more dangerous, the layers of the different universes divided by a mesh of fine threads spun from various chemicals woven into barriers. Slipping through the weft is not impossible, but repeated travel can irreparably widen holes that were never meant to exist in the first place.

Before they can properly address the issue, they catch the metallic tang of terror cutting through the damp air left behind by the rain. They reach her body too late, guided by the thick fog of omegan terror.

The corpse is splayed out, mud spread across her pale limbs from her thrashing. Her dress is cut open, waist to collar and the bare flesh displayed is dissected in a mockery of an autopsy, rib cage broken open and innards spilling out with one noticeable absence.

Her heart.

In savagely jerky movements, Brown crowds both Todd and Damian into a corner. Todd puts an arm around Damian even as he growls at Brown.  She ignores them both though, tipping her face upward. Her nostrils flare slightly to catch the faint scent particles he and Todd have no hope of ever scenting.

The edges of the bricks behind him dig into Damian’s back. Instinctively he clings to the fabric at Todd’s back, hating himself that even after all his training he still behaves like a pup at his dam’s side.

Whatever Brown catches makes her shoulders drop as she twists her upper torso to face them. “The attacker is nowhere near here, and he was a beta.”

“He?” Todd questions, pushing past her with a snap of his teeth. The broad omega settles though when Damian crouches down in front of the body, pressing against Todd’s side.

”He.” Brown confirms, crouching on Damian’s other side. “Gender differences within a caste are subtle, not many alphas can scent them apart.”

“But you can?” Todd questions, but not like he disbelieves her.  He reaches out a large hand and nudges the dead omega’s face to tip her head from one side to the other. Her expression is twisted in an unnatural scream that resembles the victims of Crane.

Brown nods simply and tips forward to scent the body.  “She was definitely an omega, unmated I think. There’s only her scent and her attackers.”

“She wasn’t attacked.” Todd is scowling, gesturing to the body’s unbroken skin. “There was a struggle, but not against someone. She doesn’t have bruises, and she should if she was asphyxiated. There aren’t any cuts, no gunshot wound, the only damage is the dissection and that’s clean so she was probably already dead. It looks like—”

“Like someone who was dosed with fear toxin.” Damian finishes for him grimly.

Todd stands abruptly, hauling Damian up with him. “We’re headed back to the townhome.”

“And what about learning anything that can get us back home?” Brown says, grabbing Todd’s arm with a rough grip. “It’s already been days. We can’t afford to wait longer.”

“We also can’t afford to be caught without an antidote by Scarecrow somewhere out in the open without backup.” Todd jerks away from her, bumping into Damian. “If Crane is here, we need to focus on stopping him. Bruce will come looking for us and we need to have Scarecrow captured when he comes.”

“And what if Bruce doesn’t come?” She says.

Damian’s heart stutters in his chest. He thinks he’s the only one who knows that in his first life,  Jason believed Bruce would come for him until his dying breath. Once—just once—when he found Damian suffering from a flashback, the older omega spoke about his death.

“B will come, ‘s what I told myself over and over. B is coming. B will save me. B will fix this. It’s how I managed to untie Sheila with my broken fingers, ‘cause I knew that if we were free Bruce have an easier time. ‘S how I managed to crawl my way over to the door. But he didn’t come. I died alone an’ I came back alone.” His brother had sounded so shattered that night, like maybe he was suffering from a flashback of his own. “But you’re not alone, Dami. Bruce was there when you came back. So was Tim an’ Steph, an’ Cass, an’ Duke, an’ Alfie, an’ you know Dick woulda been there if he could. I was there too.” Jason had pressed his forehead to Damian’s, breathing into his face like a parent comforting a pup. “I’m still here, Dami. You’re not alone.“

Now though, Todd recoils from Brown’s words, as though from a physical blow. Before he can properly challenge her, Damian gives just the barest of whines.

Both Todd and Brown turn as one to hone in on him. Their combined attention makes him just the slightest bit anxious, but for once he lets the emotion bleed into his scent instead of hiding it. He’s never felt comfortable being the center of anyone’s attention, despite having been raised for a throne.

“It is growing light, and Todd is right that we are not prepared to face Crane at the moment.” He swallows and makes sure Brown can see that she is the one he is asking. “I would—I would... prefer it if we head back.”

Brown deflates. “Yeah, Dami. We’ll head back.”

“C’mere, kiddo.” Jason picks Damian up and swings him onto his back. “I know you can make it back across town by yourself, but you’re starting to get heat sweet and if you do start you’re going to need all the energy you can get.”

And well, there is no arguing with that. Damian swallows his protests and holds tight around Todd’s neck, shutting his eyes and burying his nose in the scent that he remembers as a pup. The scent that had felt safer than even Mother’s had.

He might not know why Todd left him with the league, but he does know that he has been given a second chance to prove his worth to Rasha. A chance that Damian is determined will not be squandered. He might be low-ranked, his value to an alpha determined only by the pups that he can produce, but... Rasha is an omega and he is _worthy_ in a way he has only ever known alphas to be.

That has to mean something. 


	6. In all Her Finery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m slowly regaining my energy, little bit at a time. I have hopes that we’ll be back to a regular schedule by the end of the semester, but I make no promises. 
> 
> This is a slower chapter, but it’s important I think to see where Damian is and and to let him sort of establish himself in the story. He’s having a rough time reconciling who he is and who he thought he’d be and as a result he’s not in the best headspace.

The next day it becomes readily apparent to all that Damian and Todd lack the proper clothing for a high class omega. Perhaps they could get away with only two sets of clothing if they were working class, but they are not and Wayne will not hear of Brown paying for a thing.  Which is excellent because none of them have the currency currently in use, but it means that he and Todd have to suffer the indignity of clothing fittings.

John is sitting in—purportedly to give advice but Damian thinks he simply enjoys clothing.

Or he’s a sadist.

Brown sits next to the omega on the sofa, looking far less happy to be there. She is required to approve every choice he and Todd make. Every choice. From colors, to style, to lengths, he and Todd are not allowed to make a decision about anything.

There have been more than a few times where it was only Todd’s hand on his shoulder that spared the tailor.

He will soon have four day dresses, two skirts,  a pair of wide-legged trousers, three blouses, two dresses for going out, one for parties, and a set of training stays.

Sitting for the alterations was almost worse than being waterboarded, but now he is curled up against Brown’s side—to keep up appearances of course. Her warm apple spice scent is calming, though she is tense as well.

Todd seems to be doing well enough. Brown has approved his three requests, that he wear wide legged trousers for the most part and that nothing be orange or green. The tailor seemed content enough to grant the request as well, cooing over Todd’s demure plea.

It would seem that the first order of business is getting Todd a few properly fitted corsets. It is decidedly uncomfortable for all parties present. Excluding of course the tailor and John.

The omega must truly be a sadist.

John is currently bouncing in his seat, hands fluttering happily as the tailor holds lace after lace after lace to the edges of the corset Todd has been loosely forced into. Occasionally Todd expresses a preference, but mostly he just bites his lip.

It is unnerving.

Brown seems to find it disturbing as well for she quickly selects a few of the eyelet laces and a shade of soft blue ribbon for one, pink ribbon and floral embroidery for the second.

”Oh. How romantic.” John sighs, fanning himself. “If only I had an alpha mate to help me choose my clothing. I do love Bruce, but it is dreadfully hard to feel to pick pretty underthings when your alpha is your father.”

“I suppose I am lucky.” Todd says. Only family would be able to detect the hints of mocking sarcasm.

The tailor continues to work, making notes and pinning different places, hmming to himself thoughtfully. Finally he looks over to Brown. “What would you like his waist size to be?”

She chokes, arms spasming around Damian. “I, ah, am rather happy with where it is at for now. That is, there are health reasons to avoid changing his waist size at this time.”

Damian could have told her how that statement was going to be taken. Todd’s dismayed expression echoes the same horror.

“Oh, cousin!” John claps his hands together, truly delighted now. “No wonder you were so desperate to find him.”

“Not to worry, not to worry.” the tailor nods with with a conspiratorial wink. The alpha makes a few alterations to the pinned fabric. “There will be plenty of room for a litter, and we’ll get a maternity corset started so it will be ready once he starts to show.”

A blush spreads like wildfire across the freckled expanse of Todd’s exposed skin.

Brown’s arms tighten around Damian so tight he finds it hard to breathe. He squirms slightly and pinched one of her ribs, sucking in a deep breath once he is released. She grimaces in apology, but quickly schools her expression and scent into neutral happiness. “Yes, well... it’s early yet.”

It seems that historical prudish values are good for something, for the topic is immediately dropped—pregnancies not being a topic for polite society. Todd covered a lot of societal norms last night so that they can hopefully avoid the worst blunders. Pregnancy was part of it, simply because producing the next generation is the sole duty of all married omegas, and as a result they are likely to encounter a large number pregnant ones.  The topic is taboo partially due to it being evidence of marital bliss, and partially because many pregnancies do not make it to term. Grieving a miscarriage is supposed to be easier if they are able to grieve it in private.

“Now. I think this red silk will look gorgeous on you.” The alpha helps Todd slip the dress on. The basic form has already been made, it just requires alterations and trims if it is chosen. The color is a deep blood color, similar to his hood, and... it is flattering. Choosing the lace trim and ribbons, how tight it ought to be in the bodice, how low is too low for the neckline of a married omega’s party dress, and does it really matter if he is married if he’s still young? 

It is all mind numbing.

Damian thinks he can be forgiven if he dozes off a little, face tucked against Brown’s neck. She jostles him subtly when they’re finally done, Todd dressed once again in the clothes from the church.

Brown stands, helping Damian up as well. She wraps one arm around Todd’s waist, the appropriate amount of affection between mates in public. Todd responds by gently pressing against her. It is hidden, but Todd’s nose wrinkles just a touch in distaste. Thankfully his scent does not change, Todd is particularly incompetent at controlling his scent.

The sooner this farce is abandoned, the better.

John touches Damian’s shoulder. “I was wondering if you would like to go sightseeing? Anthony and Mason will be chaperoning us.”

Damian scowls immediately because he most certainly would not like to join this stranger. Before he can reject the simpleton, Brown answers for him. “That might be nice, Dami. Let you get used to the place.”

He feels like the curl of his lips into a soundless snarl is all the answer she should need. He knows she wants him out of the way so she can fight Todd.

Todd knows it too. Damian can see in the stiff set of his shoulders. He just needs to convince Todd that keeping him close is more important than getting him out of the way so they can fight. It sounds simple enough, but judging by Todd's expression it is something of a losing battle.

"Is it safe though?" Damian wraps his arms around himself, biting his lip for good measure. “What if I go into heat?”

Todd is wavering, but then John speaks up.

”I don’t think you smell too close to heat, and Mason will be there to take charge and get you home should the unthinkable happen.” The fool omega crouches down in front of Damian, like he is a mere child. “We’ll have lots of fun while Alpha Stephanie and Jason get to have some alone time.“

Damian’s hand twitches with the urge to gut someone, his hand is stayed only by the knowledge that Brown and Todd would be upset that they would have to go to ground to avoid murder charges.

“Maybe you could have fun.” Todd says, only after Brown pinches the underside of his arm.

John beams. “We will have so much fun. I promise. We can even get ice cream.”

“Very well.” Damian relents, making it very clear just how unenthusiastic he is about the idea. “If there will be ice cream.” 

—————

Damian was as unimpressed by the ice cream as he expected he would be. It is decent, he supposes, but he does not particularly care for ice cream in the first place and it is most certainly not worth missing whatever fight is happening between Todd and Brown at the moment.

"How are you settling in?" Mason asks, bending down slightly to smile at him. He is large, even for an alpha. Red hair hangs free from the tail gathered at the nape of his neck. He has the edge of a rough accent, similar to Todd's when the omega is startled or particularly angry. Though now that he is not preoccupied with making sure that Todd is doing well, Damian has realized that all three of this time's Wayne kids share the accent.

Damian sucks on his bottom lip, debating the best response. "We are doing well. Thank you."

"Are you always so shy?" The alpha teases.

Before Damian can do more than begin to scowl, John smacks the back of Mason's head. "You're probably scaring him. Big alpha like you, you're like twice his size."

“Ow, Johnny." Mason bares his teeth at his brother, but his scent remains mild. Then he turns to Damian with a sheepish expression. "Sorry."

Damian scoffs and turns back to his ice cream. "Please, as if you could frighten me."

“Ignore them." Anthony touches Damian's shoulder lightly before offering his arm up for Damian to take. "My brothers are well meaning, but foolish. Is your brother alright? I know it can be hard for fully presented omegas to leave behind a nest and settle in with a new pack."

"T--Jason is hardly most omegas." Damian catches himself from using Todd's surname just in time. "He is doing as well as can be expected."

"I'm glad to hear that." Anthony's smile is off somehow, tinged with the same sort of intelligence that always graces Drake's smiles. The kind that says you are being tested for an unknown quality and will only learn what that quality is if it amuses him to share it. "I know that John struggled horribly when we first moved in with Bruce."

"You are adopted?" Damian does his best to sound surprised, but it is a nearly impossible task. He had assumed as much upon meeting the trio. Only Anthony looked similar enough to be Wayne's and in the short time that he has known them, they have seemed to define their relationships to each other without the context of a relationship to Damian's presumed ancestor. Still, this is a line of questioning he can use. At the very least he can perhaps determine just how far the farce between Brown and Todd must be carried out.

He is fairly certain that if they have to spend another meal with Brown filling his and Todd's plates, she will lose a hand.

"Mmhm." Mason nods, wrapping an arm possessively around John and stepping slightly in front of Damian when an alpha who has to be in her mid-forties gives them a once over. The woman picks up her speed and Mason loosens his hold, though he remains learning against John. "Yeah. We found each other on the streets and made our own puppy pack."

"I suppose there's a reason you are telling me this?" Damian says.

“We figure it would come up eventually. Bruce wasn't sure how to bring it up to Jason and our cousin, so we thought that perhaps it would be easiest if we discussed it with you and let you give suggestions." John nudges him very gently. It's different than a nudge from his pack members back home. Father's pack, though close knit, tend to ignore the more culturally defined behaviors of each caste. Still, Damian is well versed in pack etiquitte  Even though the pressure is slightly different than something an omega back in their proper time would use, it is still recognizable as an older omega encouraging a younger pack member. "We also thought it might help if you both knew that we understand. You don't have to worry about trying to push through the discomfort of settling in somewhere new."

"Oh." It was a misguided attempt to make him feel like less of an outsider.

"So if you have trouble, especially with Bruce's friends, just some get us. We're always happy to go after them." Mason smirks and he too nudges Damian. "John especially is a great distraction now that he grew up so pretty."

John's right hook came out of nowhere, causing Mason to stumble. "And if they're omegas, we always use Mason as a distraction. He's become quite the impressive bachelor after spending time abroad."

"I hate you. " Mason grumbles.

Damian turns from them to Anthony, who is still watching him keenly. He raises an eyebrow at the beta. "And I suppose while they are busy making fools of themselves, you work behind the scenes to save everything?"

"I like this one." Anthony's smile grows sharper.

—————

They're sitting on a park bench, watching Mason awkwardly flirt with a cluster of young debutante omegas. John stands at his side, most likely as moral support and to try orchestrating an escape.

Though they are still clearly idiots, and Damian is eager to get back to Todd and Brown, he has not despised their time together.

"They found another body." A female omega tsks as she and her companion pass by. "Truly, it boggles the mind."

"Shh, darling." The male omega soothes his baby, pausing to bounce the fussing pup. "It is hard to imagine that there are so many young omegas daring to walk around without escort."

Their own escort, who looks like a beta footman, stands a respectful distance away.

"Gretchen reassures me that this... devil haunting the streets only has a taste for those in the slums, but still..." She sighs, hand over heart, "my parents want us to move back with them to Metropolis, but my husband insists that she cannot leave her job.”

The male nods sympathetically as they resume their walk. “Dalia says the same thing, but I refuse to stay. I’ll be taking baby Will and Karen with me to visit my parents in New York.”

The reply is lost to the wind.

Damian argues with himself only half a second before turning to face Anthony. “Do they truly know nothing about who is conducting these killings?”

“I’m not sure Jason or Stephanie would forgive me if I filled your head with such tales.” Anthony replies with an awkward smile. “Bruce funds the police department well, you have no need to worry over it.“

And with that, the somewhat pleasant afternoon turns cold. Damian had allowed himself to forget his place, he won’t allow himself to make that mistake twice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidenote: Anthony only meant that he thinks Damian is too young to be hearing about graphic murders, but Dami doesn’t even consider his age and skips straight towards feeling horrible about being an omega.


	7. The Blink of an Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how to feel about this chapter. I was high key struggling with it, I’m not going to lie. However, I promised to update by this Saturday and it’s.... still Saturday somewhere. I’m only a half hour late. 
> 
> I literally finished this five minutes ago and it’s had the barest of readthroughs to check for typos. So go easy on me. Lol. I’ll do a more thorough edit in the morning after I get some sleep. 
> 
> Trigger warning! I honestly can’t believe that I didn’t tag this in the beginning, bc this is a canon villain and this is literally his MO, but there’s going to be implied cannibalism in this fic. Nothing graphic, I promise, but yeah. This is not a good dude.

“Pregnant?” Jason turns on her the second the door to their shared room closes. “Do you ever think before you speak?” 

Stephanie shifts her grip to his elbow, fingertips digging into his skin. The aggressive spice in her scent burns when he breathes it in, scalding his nose and throat. “I was trying to save you from getting all of your organs squashed out of your body.”

“Pregnant was your solution?” It’s difficult to imbue every word with his disdain, but he thinks he comes close. He tugs free and stalks over to the bed to gather up his guns. He’d promised Bruce that he would return Stephanie and Damian safe from patrol. They haven’t returned yet and he’s not about to let his puppy brother get murdered while’s locked up in a room fighting with Stephanie. 

She crosses her arms, planting herself in front of the window as though that is going to have any bearing on whether or not he leaves the townhome. “We need to talk.”

“You need to move.” Jason gives her half a second to move before he tries to push past.

Her retaliating shove is harder than he expected, alpha strength causing him to stumble back a few steps. He shifts from side to side as he debates his response, the idea of crossing one of the pack’s alphas makes his skin crawl. She bares her teeth and he takes another involuntary step backwards.

“Damian will be fine. You know as well as I do that he can handle himself if anything comes up.”

“His heat—“

She snorts. “You of all people want to tell me how a heat makes someone suddenly incapable of rational thought?”

“That’s not…” He takes a few deep breathes because how can he explain to an alpha? It’s not that the heat will somehow make Damian less capable, it’s that it will make him more of a target. It will mean that should the unthinkable occur, instead of condemning the attackers people will wonder what he thought was going to happen going out reeking of heat. People will, instead of trying to protect him, make jokes about the virility of the alphas involved and accuse Damian’s alpha of being effeminate for being unable to protect him. 

It doesn’t even matter whether or not something does happen, a heat is supposed to be special. Something to share with your mate, or a time of bonding between platonic pack members. The terror of needing somewhere safe will linger in the back of his mind during his future heats.

Jason would  know. Both of his first heats, the one triggered by his father and the other occurring during a mission as Robin, occurred with the threat of trafficking hanging over his head. Now he’s large enough to fight off almost any alpha that would think to try something and he still has the worst need to nest out of any omega he’s ever known. He’s terrified by the idea of having a heat in this strange place, so he knows Damian has to be feeling the same.

There’s no way to explain that, so he pulls his lips back and summons a growl. “Move.”

“No.” She straightens her stance, threading the single word with the threat of an alpha command. “We need to discuss what we’re going to do to get out of here, and we can’t do that where Damian can hear. You know as well as I do that the stress of wherever we’ve been sent combined with pack mates tearing into each other in front of him will be the best way to trigger an early heat.”

“You think we’re going to fight?”

“I can’t be positive you won’t start something.” She lifts her chin higher, a low growl building in her throat.

Jason can taste his own scent instinctively sweetening in an attempt to soothe the very angry alpha posturing in front of him. It’s irritating because right now he needs to posture in return; force her to listen to him. Flashbacks of other angry alphas tease at the edge of his mind, but he doesn’t let them distract him from the matter at hand. He can have a mental breakdown later, he doesn’t have time for one right now. Damian could need him. Crossing his arms, he makes sure that the threat of his gun is very visible. “I made it very clear that we were not to be splitting up and you sent him off with people we don’t know.”

“You’re not in charge, Jason.” She deepens her voice and shifts her stance ever so slightly to prepare for an attack. 

Jason gives a low growl to buy himself some time. He doesn’t want to fight her, but if she doesn’t back down it might come to that. “I am the Pack Omega, and in Bruce’s pack that means I outrank you. Bruce specifically put me in charge of patrol. Move.”

“No. We need to make a plan. We can’t just chill out here until we find some way to get home. We need to be proactive.”

“What we need to do is survive.” He feels like he's vibrating out of his skin. Damian is out there and there’s someone killing omegas, there are so many people willing to take advantage of omegas and ensure them into breeder positions in their pack. “We can’t do that split up.”

“He’s with the Wayne kids. He’s going to be fine.” 

“We’ve known them for all of a day. You have no clue whether or not we can trust them.” The muscles in Jason’s arms tense in preparation to defend himself if need be. “We know that the oldest one found me after crawling around rooftops. Someone has to be killing all of the omegas in town. We can’t trust them.” 

Stephanie curls her lip back in a savage expression that makes his instincts want to roll over. “Well forgive me if I don’t trust you to be a good judge of character, Mr ‘sure I’ll follow this strange woman into a warehouse, what could go wrong?’.” 

The second she snaps her mouth shut, he can see the regret, but it’s too late. Wet anger boils over and he shoves her aside roughly. He’s done with this, with her. He needs to find Damian and get the pup somewhere safe. 

“Jason, I’m sorry.” She tries to apologize, thin fingers grabbing his shirt collar.

Blind panic roars through his veins and he nearly tips out the window in his frantic escape. His body has gone from demanding he obey her to screaming that she’s a threat. Bile stings his throat, the bitter taste crawling across his tongue. He rights himself and then snaps. “Don’t touch me. Don’t follow me. Don’t—just, just don’t.”

And then he’s out the window, scrambling across the rooftop and trying to blink away the pain and panic. 

He has to take a moment, crouched down behind a chimney, to get his breathing back under control. It’s not like he and Stephanie have ever been cordial to each other, but her words sting in a way that few things have since his death. They splinter into fragments and needle their way under his skin until he’s blinking away hot, stinging tears. 

Damian needs him and he’s sobbing over hurt feelings like a puppy. 

He swipes at his eyes with his sleeve before beginning his search of the streets. It's halfway across the city that he realizes he doesn't know where Damian and the Waynes were headed. If they were back home he would be able to tap on the comms, but here he has no way of knowing where his brother is. If he was being smart, he would go back to the town home. 

No one has ever accused Jason of being smart. He just can’t bring himself to face Stephanie yet. If he goes back he’s going to tear into her and he can’t do that. As satisfying as it would be to take her down a few pegs, he can’t afford to. Besides, it’s not like she didn’t have valid points—she’s still wrong, but some of her points are valid.

With another huff, he sets off to wander the nicer areas of Gotham but inevitably winds up in Park Row. He doesn’t know what possesses him to pick that destination. Probably perverse curiosity.

Damian needs him, he should really go find him, and yet Jason finds himself aimlessly wandering the streets he grew up on. It’s disorienting to see what they looked like at the height of their glory. The broken down apartment building he’d been squatting in when Bruce found him is a cheerful yellow with immaculate trim. He doesn’t go into building, but he can see from the outside that the leather furniture is plush and clean.

It makes his chest ache something awful. 

With a shake of his head he leaves the street at a jog. He needs to find Damian. The longer he goes without the pup, the stronger his instincts scream to find him. Once he has the boy in his grips they’re going to be taking a long nap and not leaving their nest for days. Stephanie can room somewhere else because he wants nothing to do with her anymore.

She might be right when she says they need to be looking for a way home, but Jason’s phretty sure they’re just stuck. They were sent back in time by a villain that Jason’s didn’t even get a good look at before they were zapped back. Short of the others coming to find them, they have no hope of finding a way back home.

That’s not going to be a fun realization for the others and he’s already trying to prepare himself for the fallout. It’s easier to focus on how they’re going to react than to process the realization that Bruce isn’t coming for him. 

Again.

“Hullo, ma’am. Can I help you?” A touch at Jason’s elbow startles him near out of his skin, but it’s just an alpha pup. The boy can’t be older than sixteen or seventeen, though he’s all puffed up to make himself appear stronger. “You seem lost.” 

Jason manages a wobbly smile. “I’m alright. Thank you.”

The pup takes Jason’s hand and slips it into the crook of his elbow. “Truly, it would be no trouble to escort you. Is your alpha alright? With all that’s happening, you shouldn’t be wandering these streets on your own.”  

“Ah. I was just— she’s inside one of these shops here.” Jason’s blood immediately turns cold as he tries to pull his hand away and the pup covers it with his own to hold it in place. 

His smile is so benign as to be chilling. No one beside Dick could ever look so effortlessly harmless, and even in Dick’s case it’s a lie. “Is that so? Well, I suppose we have time to take a few turns around the park then?”

“I’m afraid I need to be getting back to her.” Jason’s tugs become more urgent, but the pup clamps down harder.

“Struggle or don’t. You’ll come with me.”  His words are infused with a hint of alpha voice that has Jason’s muscles going limp like overboiled pasta. The pleasant voice is far more mature than his appearance would suggest. “Unless you want to draw attention to yourself in a square just full of unmated alphas.”

Jason takes a moment to debate whether or not that’s actually a bad idea. If the alphas are all posturing and trying to fight each other, he might actually have a better chance at slipping away. 

Unfortunately the pup takes advantage of his hesitation to drag him off towards an unpopulated alley. It’s at that moment that Jason realizes it’s turned to dusk. 

Throwing any care for societal norms to the wind, Jason pulls harder against the pup. He’s unable to break free, despite his training and considerable strength. It’s then that true fear starts to worm into his chest. Sharp nails dig into the flesh of his arm and he cries out, but predictably no one reacts. 

This is still Gotham after all. 

His attacker throws him forward, but doesn’t launch himself to climb atop Jason. In fact, he doesn’t do much of anything at all as Jason scrambles to his feet and searches for a good way out. A wicked smirk cuts across the face still padded with puppy fat before the alpha pup appears to blur and, for a heart stopping moment, he looks like a human shaped smear on reading glasses. 

Then the smear condenses and sharpens to a slightly pudgy, balding man with a grin of knife sharp teeth. “Don’t you look tasty, sweetheart. Be a good omega and hold still, will you?” 

The compulsion to obey is strong, but Jason’s stronger and this time he’s ready for it. He lets his muscles lock up briefly, unsure if it’s the alpha voice or his growing fear. If he’s not careful, he’s going to spiral into a panic attack and that’s the last thing he needs. 

The man creeps closer, keeping up a litany of cooed reassurances. “It’s alright to be scared. I’m not going to hurt you. I abhor violence, I just need to scare you a little bit.  As you long as you stay right where you are, that’ll be the worst of it. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Jason does his best to edge backwards without tipping the man off that he’s moving more than he should be capable of. He needs to be closer to the wall in order to vault up it. Instead of the half growl he usually uses to obscure his caste while out in public, Jason lets his voice soften and change a half octave. “What do you want?”

The man taps a finger against Jason’s chest. “Your heart. I finished up my last one this morning.”

Jason holds impossibly still while the man drags his hand up Jason’s chest to reach for the back of his neck. That’s when he takes his chance, lunging backwards towards the wall. 

“Hold still.” The man commands.

Jason’s muscles spasm in an attempt to obey, but he pushes past it and scrambles to the rooftop. He doesn’t let himself pause either, taking off across the uneven shingles. He knows that if he stops to catch his breath he’ll freeze. The fear buzzing beneath his skin threatens to pull him from his body. 

It’s far too tempting to give in but, while he knows that he still defends himself while dissociating, he’s terrified that this will be the one time he won’t. 

Behind him, the man gives chase. Alpha commands tug at his fraying instincts and he stumbles, hitting the roof hard. The sharp slate slices up his palms and chin. He rolls into his back, sucking in frantic gulps of air to try and catch his breath. 

The man towers over him and Jason’s heart thumps hard enough that he can feel his pulse in his wrists. His vision is nearly gone, but he still catches the glint of a knife before it comes down. 

A wild snarl has both Jason and his attacker flinching before a flash of purple brushes past. The familiar scent of female alpha pulls together the fraying strands of Jason’s consciousness tight enough that he can fight. 

Stephanie is viscious in a way Jason’s never seen, attacking with a blade that she’s stolen from somewhere. He’s not about to question it. Instead he circles around so that Stephanie can drive the man towards him. 

It works. 

Jason manages to get the man into a headlock, but before he can finish the blood choke, somehow the alpha worms a hand up to grasp the most sensitive pard of his neck.

Distantly he’s aware of the alpha pulling free, of Stephanie’s deep alpha snarl, as the world shrinks down to a pinhole and his knees buckle. His vision is nearly black and what he can see is blurry through instinctive tears. Anxiety kicks up higher as he becomes acutely aware that he’s out in the open with two alphas battling it out by his head. 

He needs his nest, his family, his dad.

Reality is slipping through his fingers, and the harder he tries to hold on the quicker it fades. A few stumbling steps is all he can manage and then he’s falling. 


	8. Promises We Couldn’t Keep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy fourth, guys! I had last weekend off and a few days into this week as well, so I made good use of this time to get started on a little bit of a buffer. I’m still working through your comments. I’ve got them down to 68 that I still need to reply to, just know that I adore each and every one of them. <3
> 
> Warnings for the beginning of this chapter. Jason has a really really bad panic attack at the beginning that verges on dissociation and results in vomiting. So... be careful, loves, and enjoy. :)

Stephanie is the one to catch him. Her spiced cider scent is comfortingly aggressive as she spreads it across his skin, gently stroking around the split skin on his neck. 

He thinks that maybe he should pull away and growl, he was angry about something, but she smells like warmth and pack and home.  

“You’re okay, Jason. Please say you’re okay. I can’t— Damian needs you to pull it back together.” The words are pleading against his skin. “C’mon. We both know that you’re stronger than these instincts. You’re most certainly spiteful enough. We’re not done fighting over our plans yet.”

Everything is sluggish, but he manages to smack his hand against her cheek and slur, “Jus’ give me a sec, yeah? I gotta... gotta breathe. I couldn’t, I can’t breathe.”

His lungs ache with the need to expand. All he can think about is breathing. Even though he’s sucking in air desperately he can’t breathe. He tries to shift away from her, tries to grab at his shirt. It feels like it’s suffocating him. “I can’t breathe, Steph. I can’t breathe.”

As much as he... doesn’t get along with Steph, she’s a good alpha. She knows just where to rub his back to help him center himself. She doesn’t snap at him for repeating the same sentence over and over on repeat. Her alpha purr is strong and protective, soothing his panicked instincts. Slowly, step by step she manages to coax him back from the edge of the unrealness taking over. 

“Five things you can see, Jason.” Her lips press against his temple; her body curves around his protectively. 

“The sky.” He stutters. The tremor running through his hands makes him clench and unclench his fingers. “The roof. Birds. The... the sun.”

His head hurts and he can’t breathe. 

“One more, Jason. I know you can give me one more.” She strokes a hand through his hair. 

“Y-you.”

“Good. That’s so good, Jay.” Stephanie purrs. She has blond curls like Catherine and it hurts. “Four things you can touch.”

Jason’s fingers spasm. He hesitantly taps his chest. “M-m-me. I’m... I can touch me. I’m solid, not cotton.”

“Mmmhmm. You’re very solid.” She accompanies this statement with a teasing squeeze, like she might give to Tim or Cass. “Four more.” 

“The slate. Umm,” he rubs his fingers through the blood on his face, probably smearing it worse. “Fabric. Hair. Y-your shoes.”

“Three you can hear, Jay.” She rubs her jaw against his to scent him, the strong protective alpha pheromones covering up his own panicked scent. 

“My heart.” Jason shuts his eyes and bends forward. “It’s so loud. It hurts.”

“Shh. What else can you hear?”

“You. Your voice.” He leans into her. There’ll be time to hate himself for it later, right now he needs to get things under control. “The wind.”

“Good. You’re so good, Jason.” She takes the head wrap that’s fallen from his head and uses it to clean his injuries. “Two you can smell.”

“Apple cider.” He scrunches his nose. “Smoke.”

“One thing you can taste.” 

He runs his tongue over the inside of his mouth and tastes earthy grit. Like that, all of his progress is undone.

He’s fifteen and waking up alone in the dark. Everything is too soft around him and he can’t get out, but then when he gets out everything falls in on him and it’s too squishy. Blood and mud and squirmy worms fill his mouth and he can’t breathe. 

Jason brings his hand to his mouth and tries to scoop out the mud and wriggling things, but he can’t get them. They writhe around his fingers and he digs inside further, gagging himself. Something jerks on his hand, trying to keeping him from pushing back against his throat, but he persists until he’s doubled over and vomiting. 

The acid and bile burn his throat and nose as he expels his stomach’s contents. Jason blinks tears, confused at the lack of worms. 

“Jason. Jason. Oh Go—Jason, are you okay?” Strong spiced apples fill his lungs and he can’t hold himself up anymore. 

He collapses against Stephanie and sobs even as he tears at his stomach. “They’re in me. I can’t get them out.”

“Can’t get what out, Jason?” Steph’s voice has gone high and reedy, but there’s still a thread of alpha strength woven in. “I’m going to help you, but I need to know what I’m looking for.”

“Worms, Stephie.” He presses his forehead into her shoulder, hoping the pressure will relieve the ache. He’s torn the fabric and she has to hold to his hands tightly to keep him from cutting his stomach with his nails. “Worms and maggots and beetles. I can feel them wiggling. Wiggling and wiggling. They’re eating me.”

“There are no worms, Jason.” Stephanie holds tight to his wrists with one hand and tips his face up, forcing him to look up at her. “I’m here with you. I’m here, Jay. You’re not there anymore.” She leans forward and rubs her nose against his before tipping his chin up further. “See? There’s the sky.”

He whines, broken and tired. All at once the panic is gone and he’s numb. 

“Shhh. Shhhh.” She strokes his cheeks, his hair, his neck. “You’re okay, Jason.”

They stay there longer than they should; long enough that he can’t feel the ridges of slate roofing digging into his legs anymore. Stephanie hums a handful of songs to him, rocking gently. She presses one of his hands to her heart so he can feel the steady thump against his palm. Her other hand gently, but firmly, grasps the back of his neck. 

“How, how did you find me?” He finally croaks.

“Luck.” She lifts her head slightly before resting her cheek closer to the front of his head. “Damian came home and you weren’t with him. He said they came from the park so I went in the opposite  direction.” 

“Is he okay?” Jason’s muscles seize and adrenaline floods his veins. 

Stephanie holds him a little tighter. “He’s fine, worried about you though. He could smell your distress from earlier when he entered our room. We need to head back soon before he decides to come looking for us. Think you can walk now?”

“Yeah.” 

She helps him stand, wobbly as a newborn. They make their way across town. People keep stopping them to talk over his head and ask Stephanie if she needs any help with her omega.

 It’s dehumanizing. 

Stephanie handles it well though, snapping her teeth and generally behaving like an overprotective alpha. He’s not sure whether or not it’s an act though, because when he tries to pull away, she allows it only long enough for her to take her coat off and wrap it around his shoulders. 

“I’m fine.” He snaps. 

She only scents him in return. “Humor me. You smell terrified and it’s driving me crazy.”

“Fricken alphas.”

“Mmhmm.” She purrs keeping him tucked in close. She sounds fond, but annoyed. “You’re allowed to go flop on people when you want to nest.” 

“That’s different.”

“‘cause you’re an omega?” She pokes his ribs lightly. “It’s fine. They could probably use naps. You could use a little alpha scenting. Not to stereotype, but omegas don’t tend to do well with abruptly changing nests and you’re nest-ier than most omegas.”

“Don’ think that’s a word.” 

“Probably not.” She says. “Pretty sure your Shakespeare made up all kinds of words though, so you have no moral high ground.”

“He’s not my Shakespeare.” Jason finally gives in and presses close to the alpha. He’s annoyed at her for this, and furious about earlier, but his skin is burning with the need for an alpha’s protection. “An’ just because he did something don’t mean you can.”

“Pretty sure making up words is how language works, buddy.” 

“Tu eres imposible.” He mutters. 

She just gives him a cheeky grin. “Sí. Apiadarse de Tim, él tiene que tratar con me.” 

When they reach the townhome, Bruce and William are dressed in warm cloaks and Bruce is preparing to enter a carriage. They both freeze when they see Stephanie with Jason. 

Immediately William heads into the house while Bruce rushes over. He once again pauses in front of them to await permission from Stephanie before he approaches Jason. 

Jason is annoyed, but willing to overlook and forgive once he realizes that Bruce has a thick fur blanket that he drapes around Jason’s still shivering form—even with Stephanie’s coat. Bruce then, very carefully, brushes his hand against Jason’s cheek to add to Stephanie’s protective scent. “I’m very very sorry such a thing happened under my roof, Jason. William is helping Damian move your things to a different room and Celeste is waiting with a doctor in the parlor.”

“Oh. You didn’t—“ He stumbles back and grabs for Stephanie’s arm like a pup or a damsel from a period drama. He hates himself for it, but it was instinctive. 

And Stephanie, curse her, just strokes over his hand and pulls him closer. She tugs on the collar of his shirt until he bends down and she can tuck his head under her chin. “Thank you, Bruce. If you could show us the way?”

The doctor’s examination is a disaster. Jason's already on edge and the last thing he wants is a strange alpha prodding at him. The woman is gentle at least, and patient. She seems to have had plenty of experience with shaken omegas at least, as much as Jason hates to admit that’s what he is. 

“Hold still, lovely.” The doctor purrs, cupping his cheeks in her hands. She’s speaking to him like he’s a wounded dog and he wants to bite her for it. “We need to get a look at these scrapes. Your alpha is right here, and you’re doing so good for me. So beautiful.”

Stephanie’s steel grip on his thigh tightens every time the woman coos some pet name.  Instead of batting their hands away, he holds still as his scent sours with distress. The doctor works quickly and dabs soft wet cloth to the cuts on his chin and hands.

“Shh. There’s a darling.”

The worst part of the whole ordeal is that the praise feels good. Someone has looked past his large size and gruff personality to see his very omegan needs, even if that someone is incredibly sexist and keeps cooing at him like he’s a baby. He wants to hate it, but instead he gives into the act and turns to hide his embarrassment against Stephanie’s chest. 

Her purr is far more soothing than anything the doctor is trying, though whether that’s because he wears her bite right now or he’s just too exhausted to differentiate an uneasy ally from pack is yet to be determined. She strokes a hand through his curls and his eyelids droop, despite the sting of alcohol in the gouges left by the attempted scruffing. His hand fists in the silk material of her waist coat. 

“Shhhh, easy now darling.” The doctor glances up at Stephanie.” An omega’s neck is so sensitive, it’s a wonder he hasn’t fainted from the pain.” She gently dabs at his neck again, pausing to pat his cheek encouragingly. “What a brave omega. Everything is better now that your alpha has you isn’t it?”

The ordeal isn’t over soon enough. He’s had time enough for the numbness to fade and his instincts are on high alert. He needs his pack’s pup and he needs Damian now. There is no possible way that he can hold still a moment longer to let this patronizing alpha delicately wrap his hand in gauze like one more scar is going to matter. 

Further in the back of his mind he also makes note that he needs to know the excuse that Stephanie gave for his absence and subsequent attack before they can begin to question him. For now he can claim nerves, being such a delicate creature, but eventually he will need an answer to give. 

“If you don’t stop talking down to him, I’ll throw you out and treat him myself.” Stephanie’s vehement growl startles everyone, Jason included. She loosens her hold on him when he flinches, but she doesn’t stop glaring down at the doctor. “He’s a grown man, not a child, and he’s more than capable of rescuing himself from some pervert.”

Bruce goes to say something, but the doctor holds her hand up. Her expression is one of indulgence. “It’s quite alright, Alpha Wayne. It’s merely due to my cleaning the wounds on his neck, see how close they are to her claim? I’ve handled many a possessive alpha. We’re fine.”

“We’re most certainly not fine.” She snaps her teeth; one hand rubbing up and down Jason arm to reassure that he isn’t the target of her ire. “Jason didn’t need me to save him and—“

“He doesn’t need you to save him now.” Jason is tired. Tired of being the shining example of an omega that breaks the mold, tired of always trying to correct misogynistic jerks who think that his caste means that his hard won muscles are just for show. “I want Damian, my nest, and to get through this as quick as humanly possible.”

“Alright.” Stephanie says and helps him stand. His whole body feels wobbly, but she keeps her arm wrapped tight around his waist to brace him. “Do you need something for the pain?”

“Nah. Doesn’t hurt, jus’ makes me wobbly.” He noses at the top of her head, searching for the barest hint of pack. His instincts are making his skin burn and he needs to nest. “Le’s go. Where’s my pup?” 

“He’s this way.” Celeste pushes Bruce and the doctor aside to touch Jason’s shoulder. Her omega scent is friendly and soothing.  She leads them down the hallway of the townhome, which—while no less opulent—is thankfully smaller than the manor. 

Inside the room she opens, Damian is furiously rearranging the furniture to make the room more defendable, though Jason’s positive that to an alpha it looks simply like aimless nesting. The small pup drops what he’s holding when he catches sight of Jason and Stephanie. He takes the room in a few strides and launches himself at Jason. 

Stephanie braces him so that they don’t topple over. Jason is pretty sure he sees tears in Damian’s eyes and he knows that he scents despair. 

“You are an absolute fool, Todd.” Dami nuzzles Jason’s chest and collarbone, clinging close. “How could you leave?”

 Jason is aware of Stephanie speaking quietly to Celeste, of the door shutting behind them, but only dimly. Most of his attention is focused on the heat sweet smell clinging to his baby. Instinct takes over and gets them both onto the dipped canopy bed.  He wants to put Damian in the center to he can work on arranging everything, but the pup clings to him too tightly to be set aside even a moment. Instead he holds to Damian with one arm and shuffles everything around them with the other until they’re fairly buried in soft fabric. 

That’s when Damian starts to cry, deep wrenching sobs that break his heart. At some point they’ve switched to Arabic as Damian apologizes for some insult he thinks he’s given Jason and promises to protect them better in the future. 

“Shh, my heart. I’m fine and we’re safe.” Jason scents Damian thoroughly, rubbing his back. “Everything is alright, be calm.” 

“I thought you left again.” Damian finally looks up at him, eyes and nose red. “I thought—“

“Never.” Jason reassures, though his chest fractures at the word again. When did he leave the boy before? They’d never been particularly close. In fact, until recently he was pretty sure Damian hated him. “You've gone into heat, my heart. It will be alright.”

“It hurts.” The pup’s hands hold tighter to his shirt.  “Will it always be so bad?”

“Not always. Your body is still growing and changing, it will hurt worse these first few times.” Jason snuffles Damian’s hairline before carefully grooming him. “But eventually it gets easier and you may come to enjoy them. Don’t make that face at me—even without a mate you can enjoy a heat. Two or three days a month to lie in bed and eat chocolate all day? Dick gives the best back rubs, I promise. His hands feel like heaven on heat sore skin. Bruce is excellent at nest guarding. He’s very dark and very broody, very nice. And Tim—”

“Disgusting. As if I’d ever let Drake into my nest.” 

“Alright, alright. I’m not saying you need to. I’m just saying that when it comes to being doted on, Timmy is the absolute best.” Jason gives a dramatic sigh, snuggling the sleepy pup closer. “Timmers grew up in the lap of luxury. If there’s something that’ll make a heat easier, that boy knows where to find it.”

“Hmm.” Damian shifts restlessly before finding a comfortable position. “If he brings proper tribute I suppose he might be allowed in.”

“How kind.” Jason teases, but the worn out pup has already drifted off to sleep. “Just sleep a while, my heart.”

“Is he alright?” Stephanie’s voice, so close to the nest, makes him jerk. She’s frowning down at them. “I don’t understand.... Arabic?”

“Mm. He’s fine. A little hormonal, but that’s understandable.” Jason nuzzles the top of Dami’s head, reluctant to move. “My disappearance must have been the last straw.”

“I—I’ve never helped an omega in heat. Do you... does he need anything?”  She glances around the room like that might hold the answer. “I’ve already scent marked everything as much as possible, but now I’m not sure—”

He takes a deep breath to confirm that yes, she spread her scent across everything. Her spiced apple musk is comforting to him, and he only vaguely likes her.  Despite all protests to the contrary, Damian adores Stephanie so he knows that the pup will appreciate it. “That will help. The biggest issue that his nest doesn’t smell like pack.”

“Okay.” Stephanie chews on her lip, looking like she’s not quite sure she believes him.  Then when he tries to disentangle himself from the pup, she jumps to help him. “What are you doing?”

“Getting air.” He stumbles towards the window. “I just... suffocating here.”

She hmms like she’s not sure it’s a good idea, but cups his elbow supportively. To his surprise, she doesn’t demand that he accept her assistance like most alphas, even the ones in their pack, would. “Let me help?” 

He stares down at her, but he can’t quite decipher her expression. It’s wary and concerned all at once. Turning his back on her, he fiddles with the lock on the window. 

“Do what you will.”

 


	9. Whatever the Reason

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guuuuysss. I have been waiting for this chapter almost since I started this fic. (Dressing Jason up in pretty dresses and letting him get swept off his feet by dashing alphas at a ball is the one I’m REALLY waiting for and this was one of the biggest hurdles to that.) 
> 
> anyways. I hope you’re all enjoying this. I’m almost done with work (15-18 days left) and I honestly can’t wait. I’m also off tomorrow (the 13th so I’ve set aside a couple hours and I’m going to get caught up on my comments. It’s going to happen.

Jason doesn’t look steady enough to be standing, much less climbing onto the roof.  She stays below him, though she’s not sure what she thinks she can do if he falls. If she tries to catch him, his weight will pull them both down.

Thankfully he makes it up safely.

Staring at him, watching him tip his head up to let the light spray of rain trickle down his face, the question rips from her. “Why’d you do it?” At his startled jerk towards her, she clarifies, “Come back to Gotham to put heads in duffel bags and hurt the kids.”

Jason opens his mouth, but can’t seem to say anything; just stares at her with his curls plastered down by the rain. The white streak stands stark against the ink of the other strands. Finally he croaks, “Not going to assume you know anymore?”

“I’ve been doing some thinking and I’m realizing no one ever actually asked you.” She tries to scent the air, but she can’t tell if the dampness of his scent is from the rain or heavy emotion. Either way, she takes a seat next to him and presses against his side to find he’s trembling. “So I’m giving you the opportunity to justify yourself.”

“Thanks for the prompt consideration.” He gives her a wry smile that quickly drops away. Always trying to look smaller, he hugs one knee up to his chest and hunches down. “I was trying to fix things.“

She’s trying not to accuse him and pick a fight, but it’s impossible not to bite out, “You sure? Because from where everyone else is sitting, it looked a whole lot like revenge and jealousy.”

“I don’t care that B didn’t save me. I was a lost cause and I knew the first time I put on the suit how it was gonna end. I just,” He hisses through his teeth. Eyebrows, one mottled with white, draw low in frustration. “I don’t care that he didn’t save me. It wasn’t about revenge. It wasn’t about Tim or Dami either.”

“Then why?”

“He was supposed to save... He was supposed to save them.” Jason turns on her, face contorting with anger but his scent says he’s in pain. “I was supposed to be the last one. I thought— I thought it was worth it if it meant that no one else got hurt. I’d been hurt my whole life, but Bruce cared. He saidhe cared. I thought it was enough. I thought I was enough. I thought I was the last one.”

“Makes perfect sense.” She drawls. “You wanted to be the last one hurt, so you went out and brutally murdered the gangs before beating your younger brothers black and blue.”

She’s going to give him a pass on beating the Joker with a crowbar. She’d do it too if she’s being honest. She also knows she wouldn’t hesitate if she happened to be holding a drill with Black Mask tied up in front of her.

“I was trying to show him.” Jason’s blue eyes are wild, desperate for her to understand. It’s making her stomach twist. “If I wasn’t important enough to show him, then they should have been. They should have been enough. I was trying to protect them.”

“You nearly killed them.” She whispers, voice wavering. This isn’t a brutal Lazarus pit drenched madman. This is a broken omega trying to defend a nest of pups. Looking at Jason she’s reminded of the time she saved a man in labor from a trafficking ring and then had to stop him from drowning the pup. She’d cradled the drenched little thing, too weak to even whimper for her mother, while the omega sobbed that he had to protect her from the hell he’d been through.

She doesn’t like remembering it. “Tim idolized you and you broke him.”

“I thought I could make B see.” Jason bites his lip until the scab busts and blood spills down his chin again.  “I was... I’m... they’re... I thought if I wasn’t enough then surely they had to be. I was careful. I was gentle; more gentle than he was. I was gentle.”

With the way Jason spits out ‘he’ there’s no doubt he’s talking about the clown.

Jason ducks his head to rub at his freckled nose. She’s never noticed the divot in his cheekbone before, just below his eye, but now she can’t unsee it. Picturing the blow needed to create it brings bile to the back of her throat, especially because she can guess where it came from.

“I didn’t want to hurt them. I shouldn’t have. If I had the chance I wouldn’t now, but back then I thought—I thought it would work.”

‘He was mid-heat and riding the Lazarus pit,’ she remembers Tim screaming at her the morning before they got zapped back in time. She remembers screaming back that wasn’t an excuse. It’s still not an excuse... but maybe it’s part of the reason why Jason became so twisted.

Sick of listening to the others make excuses for him, she’d tried picking a fight over his earrings. Jason hadn’t taken the bait. Just now that she’s realizing he hardly ever does.

His scent is too sweet, bordering on a heat himself, but still so sour with distress. Damian is in bed asleep, sweating and in pain. If they’re not careful, Jason will end up the same.

Fingers trembling, she reaches out and smooths Jason’s curls out of his face. When he doesn’t do anything more than stiffen, making his shivers painfully obvious, she strokes down to his neck. He looks away, no doubt steeling himself against being scruffed again, but that’s not her intention. She hates that he has no reason to think any better of her.

“It’s okay, Jason. I’m sorry I asked.” She tries to soothe. He doesn’t respond so she continues stroking across the back of his neck, avoiding broken skin, until he gradually leans his weight against her and bends his neck just ever so slightly to allow her better access.

Finding the right words is a struggle. She knows she’s not wrong to have her reservations, but still... She rests her cheek on the top of his head. “You’re my pack omega and I owe you a lot more respect than I’ve been giving you. I’ll try to start listening.”

“That’s a change of heart.” He growls, but she catches the hint of a purr beneath it. Hesitantly, he tucks his head close against her neck and lets her scent cover him. She’s not sure if it’s because he’s accepted her or if he’s just too tired and desperate for comfort to protest.

She cradles him closer anyway. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Mm. Don’ worry about it. In the list of ‘family members who should have cared about me but didn’t’ you don’t even make top ten.”

“Ouch.” Her involuntary snort of laughter is horrified. “How can I be angry at someone so pathetic?”

She’s not given a chance to worry that she might have overstepped because Jason immediately starts a warm purr. “Can’t. It’s a good strategy if I do say so myself. Been thinking about using it as Red Hood since it’s worked so well for Jason Todd.

“Oh sorry for ruining your laundering empire, Mr. Cobblepot. I just couldn’t help it. I grew up so poor and all.” Jason’s voice pitches higher into the soft warbles of a frightened omega. “No, please don’t get angry, Mr. Black Mask sir. After my daddy tried to sell my first heat, I just don’t have any choice but to castrate rapists.”

“Quit making me laugh at this.” She gasps, covering her mouth to muffle her giggles. “You’re horrible.”

Jason’s green-blue eyes gleam with satisfaction. “Maybe. Probably not the worst I’ve done though. And I did do it.”

“Do what?” His hair is so curly and soft. It really is a shame that she hasn’t run her fingers through it before.

“Castrate him.” Jason’s eyes close into half lidded slits. He looks supremely pleased, long limbs relaxing. “Not just ‘cause of you, prolly would’ve done it anyway, but I did it slower for you. Pinned him to the wall with his own letter opener through his shoulder. Think that’s why he was so quiet until recently.”

The rush of emotions she feels at that announcement are too overwhelming to process clearly. “You... the others never said anything about him.”

“Don’t think they know, officially.” Jason hums, pressing his head a little more insistently into her hand when she pauses the massage. She begins it again and he continues. “Bruce wouldn’t let me kill him, but he kinda looks the other way if I’m not too brutal.”

“Castration isn’t too brutal?”

“I did say that officially they don’t know that I did it.” Jason stretches out and then curls up next to her. “Wish we could have Dami’s nest be up here.”

“Might get a little wet.” She wipes the water from her face pointedly, still more than a little dazed by their previous topic. Then, because she can’t help herself, she uses her cravat to wipe his face.

It earns her a quietly happy trill. Jason looks more comfortable than he has since they got zapped here. Who knew that he was so cuddly once he’s relaxed? His nose brushes against her hipbone as he shifts to half lay in her lap. The throaty purr that comes from him makes it impossible for her to stay agitated.

“Should head back down before he wakes up.” Jason says, arching with another trill as her massage slips down to his neck and shoulders. “He’ll probably freak if we’re gone again.”

“Probably.” She blinks down at the purring man, still trying to reconcile him with the rampaging Red Hood who castrates villains as some sort of compromise. “Are you feeling better?”

“Mmhm. Thanks. I...” The blush that creeps across his face and down his neck makes him far more adorable than any serial killer has any right to be. With grabby motions, he gestures vaguely at the sky.  “I really dislike being scruffed. Jus’, trapped. Y’know?”

Tears spring to her eyes unbidden as she remembers wrapping up in her purple bedsheet and sneaking to the roof at night so she wouldn’t feel so suffocated. Sometimes her mom would notice and come yell at her, usually she didn't. Her dad never seemed to care, whether he noticed or not. She never caught sight of Batman until after Tim showed up, but she... she did meet Robin just once.

“You were Robin.” The truth of it lodges in her gut, right behind her navel. She knew he was the street kid Bruce took in, knew Jason was Robin, but she didn’t know. “We all worshiped you.”

“You worshiped Dick.” Jason huffs, the ease in his muscles gone. He’s all bunched up, ready to flee if he needs to. “Barely anyone even noticed I was new.”

Stephanie touches his face, her thumb stroking over the divot in his cheekbone. Unease boils in her stomach, but she buries it under a robin smile. “You were one of us, we knew.”

Wild eyes stare back at her. It’s the gaze of a caged animal that knows it has no escape. He doesn’t pull away though, not even when her hand slides back through his hair to his neck. She cups it, paying extra care to make sure she doesn’t brush any of the punctures from her bite or the scruffing. She’s hoping that the pressure helps rather than hurts.

His Adam’s apple bobs as she leans in and presses her lips to his forehead. Then she steps back and tips her chin up in offering. She doesn’t know the official wording for what she’s about to do, she’s never been interested enough in an omega to figure it out. Jason probably knows, but he was an alley kid so it isn’t like he could expect much from her. “Would you allow me to share your nest?”

His tongue darts out to wet his cracked lips. “You’re submitting?”

“Yes.” She arches her neck further. “With—within reason. Damian needs us to present a united front, and you do rank higher.”

“I don’t trust you.” Jason says. He leans in and then pauses, mouth near her throat.

It makes her chest seize. Every one of her instincts are insisting that she should strike and force the omega to give. She’s better than that, better than the entitled alpha her father wanted her to become, so she doesn’t flinch. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“Mmm.” Jason hesitates a second longer and then nips her neck before nosing behind her ear. Of course he wouldn’t take the shot she offered him. As much as she almost hates him for it, Jason is too noble. “You’re accepted into my nest, to guard as your own. You’ll keep my pup safe?”

She wants to ask when Damian became his, but she doesn’t dare. It’s not the right time. Instead she lowers her chin and gaze submissively.  “With my life.”

“Then I suppose we should head back.” Jason clings to the wall with an ease that would make even Selina jealous.  “Dami’s a light sleeper, and even if we can count on the heat keeping him out longer than normal. He’ll be up before too long, burning out of his skin.”

She nods in agreement and follows down after him.

Damian is still fast asleep, curled up in the nest Jason cobbled together for him. Jason heads straight for it, not bothering to shake the water from his hair before climbing in beside him. Quiet and soft, the noises Jason makes remind her of the ones her mother made in her more lucid moments.

She’s glad that Damian has someone to fuss over him. Every pup should, especially during their first heat or rut. She’d hidden in the attic during hers, with the occasional escape to the roof.

A beckoning churr startles her out of the memory. Jason has wiggled himself and Damian into a corner of the nest to make room for her, Damian in the middle.

She still pauses to ask for permission before she climbs inside. An omega’s nest is sacred, or should be. No respectable alpha would ever even accidentally disturb one, and Stephanie likes to think that she’s respectable. She’s always tried her best anyway. Her dad wasn’t much help except in figuring out what not to do, but Bruce, Dick, and Tim haven’t been the worst alphas to mimic.

“C’mon. The baby needs you.” Jason mumbles, eyes already half lidded and sleepy. He’s probably crashing, and he well deserves to. Between the scruffing induced submission and the rush of hormones in the opposite direction to trigger a panic attack, he has to be exhausted.

She crawls into the nest and settles in, Damian tucked neatly into the curl of her body. One of her arms extends over the pup to rest on Jason’s hip.

It gets her a happy purr in reward. Jason reaches over Damian to start unbuttoning her waistcoat. “Shouldn’ sleep in this.”

“Alright, alright.” She bats at his hand so she slip out of the waistcoat. The cravat comes off as well for good measure. When she settles back down, Damian nuzzles towards her neck’s scent glands.

Jason watches fondly, stroking his fingers over Damian’s hair. “He’s a sweetheart.”

“Once he’s stopped trying to murder you.”

“Nah. That’s half his appeal.” Jason scootches closer to press a soft kiss to the top of the boy’s hair. Then he reaches over Damian to brush his fingers over Stephanie's eyelids. “Now sleep.”

“Bossy.” She says. It’s a friendly grumble though. For now at least, she and Jason are allies. The rest of their issues with each other can wait until they get home.

If they get home. 


	10. Deepest, Darkest Hour of this Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my darlings! I hope everyone is doing well. I've been so overwhelmed by everyone's lovely lovely comments. I promise I'm reading every single one and someday I'm going to get to them all. Promise.
> 
> This is another slower chapter, giving Stephanie and us a minute to decompress from all the emotional upheaval of the last chapter. Also! Alpha vs Omega world building. Next chapter we get to see how Damian is handling this heat in a strange time period. :)

Stephanie is startled awake halfway through the night by Damian's quiet whines. They're barely audible, in fact she's shocked that they woke her up. Damian doesn’t move in his sleep, other than the slight pitch to his breathing, his pinched brows are the only sign that something is wrong. Not even his scent has changed much, only a hint of metal tang lurking in the spiced vanilla.

  
“Shh, my pup.” Jason stirs and tugs Damian closer to his body, curling around the pup. The omega’s honey-sweet scent warms, coating both Damian and Stephanie in syrupy protection. A soft purr rumbles from deep in Jason’s chest as he tucks Damian’s head against his heart. “Hush, my heart. You’re safe and loved. I know it hurts, just sleep my darling and the pain will fade.”

  
Guilt stings as she listens to Jason’s quiet reassurances. She knows she shouldn’t eavesdrop on a moment so clearly between a mother and child. There’s no option to leave, or even roll over to give them a semblance of privacy. Damian clings to the strap of her sports bra that she has no chance of dislodging him without waking him up. Instead she stares up at the ceiling, listening in and hoping Jason doesn’t get too angry at her for not removing herself from the situation.

  
“It hurts” Damian whimpers, nuzzling up underneath Jason’s jaw. He doesn’t seem fully awake, only barely conscious enough to be uncomfortable. “Make it not hurt.”

  
“I can’t, love. Heats are just something we have to wait through.” Jason croons mournfully, taking one of their extra pillows to press against Damian’s abdomen. “Here. Lean forward and put pressure on this.”

  
“I thought heats weren’t supposed to hurt.” She finally speaks up, stroking through Damian’s sweaty hair with one hand. “I mean. I thought you guys get too horny for anything else to matter.”

  
Jason pulls one lip back, baring one corner of his teeth in annoyance. “I thought you said that your mother is an omega.”

  
“She is.” Stephanie says. It’s hard to keep her tone even and not defensive. She manages it only for the sake of the pup cradled half awake between their bodies. “That doesn’t mean we’ve sat around discussing her heats. Dad kept her company in her room for a few days every month and that was good enough for me.”

  
Jason blinks at her, clearly horrified. “You’re her daughter.”

  
“Alpha daughter.” Stephanie snaps and then takes a deep breath to calm herself. “Her alpha daughter. You want to tell me that you and your dad used to chat about his ruts for fun?”

  
Jason’s expression closes off with pain. It’s unexpected. He doesn’t give her much time to think on it, turning back to nuzzle the sleeping pup in his arms. “My dad wasn’t really the talking type.”

  
Her chest hurts with sympathy. Dick told her that Jason’s birth dad was a criminal too. He was a thug rather than a themed villain like her sire, but she figures the basics are the same. Forcing her scent to calm, Stephanie bares her neck. She needs to keep her omegas calm or Damian’s first heat could quickly go south. “I meant Bruce.”

  
“Oh.” That seems to have hurt him more than thinking about his birth father. “Oh. Yeah, Bruce and I didn’t really talk about the alpha side of things. I was… I was barely comfortable knowing he was an alpha. Didn’t want to know if he thought about me when he was in rut.”

  
“Bruce is your dad.” She chokes off in horror.

  
Jason shrugs one shoulder and turns his attention to grooming Damian. “So was Willis. He didn’t seem to have much trouble with it when he was auctioning the rights to my presenting heat off to the highest bidder.”

  
There’s nothing to say to that, no way to ever make that okay. She can’t even pretend to know what that would be like. Her first rut sucked, but at least she hadn’t been terrified of it. Swallowing hard, she ducks her head. “Look, I don’t know what a heat involves. I’m asking you to explain it to me.”

  
For a moment she thinks Jason is regretting his decision to let her stay in the nest. It actually looks like he starts to shift enough to make he leave, but then Damian nuzzles closer and the omega settles back down. Jason huffs and bundles Damian back up with a soft blanket, not looking at her. “It’s not… They’re not unpleasant, once you’ve gotten through the first few. First day is always the worst every month as your body starts to prep for a baby, especially if you know that you’re not going to have one.”

  
“What do you mean?”

  
“You put on a lot of weight that you know you’re going to have to work off, for one. A lot of it is over your stomach, to pad the babies, but it also builds up over your thighs and your chest is the worst. Every month I go up a whole fricken cup size just in case I might get pregnant and have to breastfeed nine months later.” He nuzzles the top of Damian’s head. “And the cramps do hurt for the first day or so, but then it all kind of… fades.”

  
“Fades?”

  
“Mmhm. As long as you’re safe and with pack, you just kind of… fade.” He shifts, looking uncomfortable. “It’s… You get kind of needy, not necessarily horny. You need your pack around you so you can keep them safe. Make sure they’re getting plenty of sleep and scented and all that. Is…” He flicks his tongue out to wet his bottom lip in a nervous gesture. “What’s a rut like?”

  
For one terrifying moment, she can’t breathe. Images of hiding on the roof so she can’t hear her father brutalize her mother, Dick’s voice pleading with her to tone down her alpha voice around Jason because he’d ‘had bad experiences with alphas in the past’. Hiding herself away during her own ruts in case she loses her tight control over herself; in case she becomes like her father. Then she notices that the worry in Jason’s eyes isn’t a fear of her, but fear for her. The omega doesn’t even like her and he’s worried that her ruts could even come close to his heats. She forces a soft smile. “They’re not too terrible. I do get pretty horny, I’m afraid, but it’s not uncontrollable. Mostly I get protective, I guess. I don’t appreciate people I don’t know coming into my pack’s den.”

  
Jason rolls onto his back, letting Damian shift in his sleep to put pressure on his abdomen using Jason’s hip bone. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t have helped with that. Even if I am an omega, I was a stranger and a threat to the pack.”

  
“I—” She swallows hard. Something doesn’t sit right with her at Jason’s apology for making her ruts difficult when she went out of her way to make sure she wasn’t giving his heats any sort of consideration. “It’s alright. I promise they weren’t that bad. Just sleep for now. Damian’s going to wake up tomorrow and need you, and you need the rest so you can heal heal.”

  
“Mmm.” Jason hums, eyeing her thoughtfully. He shifts a little on his side accompanied by the slide of the quilt covering them against the sheets.

  
As he slips towards sleep, she can’t help but think about his heats, and not in the way an alpha usually imagines an omega’s heats. Did Willis Todd really try to sell his son’s first heat? Was he successful? She worries that’s what Dick meant when he said that Jason had bad experiences with alphas. There’s something to be said about the stillness of the night, of the intimacy found in laying so close to someone that she can feel his breath on her face. Gathering her courage, she speaks up again. “Have… Have all the alphas you’ve known been like that?”

  
“Who’s been like what?” The omega’s sleepy blue eyes blink open at her. Jason’s face is hard planes and scars, but there’s a softness to be found when he’s so relaxed and on the verge of sleep.

  
Stephanie swallows back bile, but she started the conversation. “Your… partners.”

  
“My partners?” His face scrunches up in confusion, wrinkling the freckled skin across his nose.

  
“Your…” She struggles with another delicate way to put it, but she has the feeling that Jason is going to make her spell it out. “The alphas you’ve had sex with. If they’ve treated you like your sire did, like a commodity, I just want you to know they were wrong.”

  
“Good to know Dick still can’t keep his mouth shut.” Jason scowls and she’s startled by his anger. “Listen, hooking wasn’t a great job but it wasn’t that bad either. I don’t need you turning up your nose at me. We might both be East End scum, but you’re an alpha. You had options, it was hooker or housewife for me.”

  
“I didn’t— no!” She reaches forward blindly to clap her hand over his mouth, keeping it there just long enough to get his attention. “No, Jason.Dick’s never said anything about you before you came to the manor. I just, the way you talked about your sire, I wanted to make sure you knew he was wrong.”

  
“Why?” Suspicion laces his tones with a tight warble. It disturbs Damian’s sleep, the pup pushing closer insistently.

  
“Because regardless of what I think about you, no one deserves to be treated like that.” She wants to reach out and touch him, but she keeps her hands down at her sides. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with that.”

  
“What I don’t want to deal with is the Wayne’s tomorrow. They’re going to have too many questions. He, the beta, he was a… I don’t know what he was. A shape shifter maybe.” Jason says. He doesn’t lift his gaze from Damian. “I don’t want to think about that alpha, much less explain him to group of people just waiting to diagnose hysteria and insist on fingering me as ‘treatment’.”

  
Stephanie chokes on her own spit. “They really did that back then?”

  
“Basically, but in their defense it was probably a fair diagnosis a lot of the time.” A deep red blush covers all of Jason’s visible skin. His scent turns embarrassed to the point where it’s almost sickening to breathe in. “In general they would deny omegas pleasure as much as possible in the fear that the pleasure would overwhelm their frail bodies and turn them sickly.”

  
That does turn her stomach and she fights a few heaves before she regains control. “They didn’t.”

  
“They did. Usually they put cages on the male omegas and ignored the female omega’s clits.” The red blush somehow gets deeper, even as Jason seems to perk up at having someone actually listen when he talks about his favorite time period. Though how it could be his favorite, given the things he’s sharing, she doesn’t know. “If the alpha was particularly traditional they, ah… Well, there were surgeries.”

  
“These… all of these required alpha approval, right?” As horrified as she is for the poor omegas who fell victim to their alpha’s whims, Stephanie is more concerned about the fate of her omegas. Damian is far, far too young for his heats to be anything more than pack bonding. The idea of some doctor deciding to take away his potential for sexual pleasure before he’s even had the chance to fall in love has her bristling protectively. Even the idea of Jason going under the knife is upsetting. “Specifically the mate and sire’s approval?”

  
“They can’t do anything without your approval.” Jason chuckles, leaning over Damian to nuzzle at her temple like a mother comforting a pup. “There’s no need to growl. You’re going to wake up the pup.”

  
“Not growling.” She bats at him until he lays back down. “Excuse me for wanting to make sure you get to keep all your omega bits.”

  
Jason laughs, all awkward nerd snorts and blotchy red blush. He has to cover his mouth with his hand, biting on one knuckle. Once he gets the hiccuping laughter under control, he rolls over onto one elbow and gives a deeply omegan, deeply flirtatious, purr. “I’m sure my omega bits thank you.”

  
“Not like that.” She hisses in horror, fighting her own laughter despite herself.

  
After another few snorts of laughter, Jason runs his tongue over his bottom lip as he gazes up at her through long, dark lashes. His voice goes low and sultry in an automatic way that makes her uncomfortable. It’s extremely sexy and yet there’s something young and maybe even innocent to it. “I could make it worth it for you, alpha, promise.” Then the act breaks and he bursts into giggles again, one hand over his mouth to stifle them. “Sorry, sorry.”

  
“Please never do that again. I’m going to vomit.” She shoves him lightly onto his back and he goes easily.

  
His hand slips just enough for her to see his smile.

  
A few soft coos wake her from light sleep some time later. Employing her bat skills, she keeps her breathing slow and deep, just barely opens her eyes to slits so she can watch Jason groom the pup clinging to him. The maternal sounds weren’t anything she ever imagined Jason could make, but she finds them calming. His honey-vanilla scent settles over the room, infused with syrupy warmth. The happy omega smell, coupled with his crooning, soothes her own alpha instincts. The stress of trying to protect an omega and pup, especially this omega and pup, when they don’t want protection has been wearing down on her. Now she finally feels like she can safely rest with her charges nesting and content.

  
Damian’s quiet yips in response to Jason’s coos nearly make her heart melt. She watches the pup nuzzle against Jason’s chest, his hands fisting in Jay’s loose nightgown. His bluster and arrogance has always made him appear much larger than he really is. Standing, he probably barely reaches Jason’s mid chest. The alpha posturing definitely helped to make him appear older and larger.

  
She’s finding that the same thing can almost be said of Jason. While he’s most certainly not small, even for an alpha he would be a decent size, his posturing has definitely helped him appear much rougher. It’s only here, watching him groom a pup, that she can see the hints of omega padding out his high cheekbones and full lips. Without his armor she can see that, while he’s still well muscled, there’s less definition than one would usually expect. His chest and hips are round and his waist curves in dramatically, even without the help of the corset. It’s messing with her perception of the omega who’d burst onto crime alley’s streets, all sharp corners and alpha muscle.

  
The last thing she wants is to be the person who changes her opinion of a person the second she finds out their caste. She doesn’t want to think that she’s the type of person who would hate Jason when she thought of him in alpha terms as a peer, but would give him slack as soon as she starts holding him to lowered, more omegan standards. It’s infantilizing, and takes away from his agency. It’s just…

  
She’s not sure she wants to keep hating him either.

**Author's Note:**

> Titles from Good for Goodness by Brittain Ashford.


End file.
